Twelve Days
by TheEndless7
Summary: Follow Harry Potter through the twelve days that will define his adult life. A Post-War Romance for Christmas
1. Holiday

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

Twelve Days

Holiday

December 18-20, 1999

Harry Potter arrived in Bordeaux in the early evening of the eighteenth. There were only three others on the portkey from Ballycastle. Yet the paparazzi greeted him at the terminal regardless. It was the first time he'd come to France since he'd defeated Lord Voldemort and the French knew it.

Part of him wished that the media circus would have waited until he came to the country for a match, at least then he could hide behind the team and not just be standing alone in a public space while people snapped his photo and yelled questions at him.

Thankfully he saw Bill in the corner and after eighteen months of reporters he'd grown accustomed to getting away from them. Half of the time he'd just Apparate away or glare. Unfortunately, he didn't know his destination and the French weren't accustomed to his glare.

But it was easy enough to give them some kind words and quotable nonsense, albeit in English, before pushing through them and moving over to Bill.

"Good to see you, Harry," Bill said right away.

"Hey Bill," Harry responded. "Ginny not make it in? I thought her Portkey was due in twenty minutes before mine."

"She made it in fine," Bill said, running a hand through his hair. "She just ran into some friends who play for the Lightning and went off with them. I don't think she caught word that you were going to be early and she was off before I could tell her."

"I see," Harry said, adjusting his bag around his shoulder. It was his standard team bag, black with the red Bats logo on it. He'd only brought enough clothing for a few days and not much else. Bill was holding a very similar green and gold one.

"She didn't seem to think you'd mind," Bill said, almost cautiously.

"Nah, it's fine," Harry shrugged. "She thought I was coming in later. Where are we heading to?"

"Public floo will get us to a couple of blocks away from their house," Bill said.

"Can't just go straight there?" Harry asked.

"No," Bill said. "Floo is outbound only there. The French ministry doesn't tend to like politicians' homes accessible by everyone who can say a few words."

"Can't fault them for that," Harry said as they queued up with some others at the public floo terminals near the portkey arrivals.

"Makes you wonder if the Death Eaters knew dad had Privet Drive added to the floo network during your third year, doesn't it?" Bill laughed.

"That's a chilling thought," Harry laughed.

"Thankfully not one we have to worry about," Bill said.

"Is that why they're doing this?" Harry asked.

"No," Bill said. "Fleur's parents wanted to get to know the entire Weasley clan. Considering how tense the wedding was, and how it ended, they wanted to do something nice. I think they wanted to do it last year, but Fleur talked them out of it."

"So they decided to have everyone for a nice little Christmas party and I'm invited because I'm dating Ginny and not because I'm Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Exactly," Bill said. "Charlie couldn't make it back. And the twins aren't coming until tomorrow. I don't think they quite realized just how many extras that entailed. And I think my mother is driving Mrs. Delacour mad."

"I can't imagine why," Harry laughed.

"That's why I offered to come get you," Bill said. "I think Fleur was jealous that I managed to slip out while she was stuck icing biscuits."

"Interesting. So, there's biscuits awaiting?" Harry asked.

"I think they're for tomorrow," Bill laughed.

"It's tomorrow in Japan," Harry said. Bill rolled his eyes as they arrived at the public floo. He and Bill both grabbed some of the communal powder and he followed Bill to their destination.

They stepped out of a fire in what appeared to be an inn of some sort. Bill waved at the barkeep and said something in French that was too quick for Harry to decipher. They stepped outside and Bill led him down a forested street.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Just a few miles outside of Bordeaux. Their house is just up ahead," Bill said as they walked down the street.

"Anything I need to know before I put my foot in my mouth?" Harry asked.

"You're Harry Potter, does it matter how you act?" Bill asked.

"Ask me again after I eat all the biscuits tonight," Harry said.

"I feel like you could get away with it," Bill responded. "Anyway, how's your French?"

"Mediocre at best. Bad if I'm being honest with myself," Harry said.

"I'd say at least try to use it if you go anywhere with them. At the house they don't seem to mind English but they'd appreciate French in public. I'm sure Apolline will want to take you to the Christmas market. She's always a big part of it and very proud of it," Bill said.

"I've heard of that," Harry said. "It's supposed to be a fun time."

"It's enjoyable," Bill agreed. "Especially if you like the holidays."

"I do. Is that the house?" he asked, seeing the roof of one in the distance. Bill nodded.

"Yes," he said as he turned up one of the drives. "Welcome to Chez Delacour." It wasn't quite as grand as Harry expected. But it was a large two-story building set back into the forest. It was a stone building with two chimneys that he could see, smoke coming out of one of them. Garlands and lights lined the building and it looked quite quaint with snow staring to fall around it.

"Is it wrong I expected more?" Harry asked. He knew that Louis Delacour was high up in the French ministry. He believed the man was in charge of international trade. But he wouldn't have wanted to be quoted on that.

"I did too at first," Bill said. "But you know government jobs aren't always what they're cracked up to be. Not like a quidditch star."

"Hey, Ginny makes more than me. And, I mean, not saying it's not nice. But Fleur always made it seem like they had their own castle," Harry said.

"Well there are stables out back. Apolline like horses. And sometimes it is more how it makes you feel and not what it is," Bill said.

"True enough," Harry agreed, feeling oddly shallow.

"Anyway let's go tell everyone you're here," Bill said as they walked up the steps to the building. Bill opened the front door and walked right in, Harry followed after him.

There was a staircase leading upstairs in the entry. Garlands lined the railing going up. Harry peered upstairs but before he could really fathom going upstairs the smell of baked goods filled his nostrils and his attention turned toward the kitchen, where Bill was already heading.

Harry followed a few steps behind him. His eyes took in the unfamiliar house. It was decorated to the nines for the holiday with something pertaining to the yule on every mantle or wall, mistletoe in nearly every doorway, little villages set up in most little lights gracing nearly everything. Harry wondered how much of it was regular holiday occurrence and how much was for the party. A very large pine tree took up most of the foyer, Harry saw a pair of familiar blondes going through ornaments and hanging them on the tree. He debated saying hello but instead he heard Bill talk from the kitchen.

"Harry's here," he said.

"Harry?" Molly Weasley squealed and Harry turned to step into the kitchen.

"Hey," he said as Mrs. Weasley engulfed him in a hug. He waited as patiently as he could for it to be over. It didn't take nearly as long as usual.

"Give me your bag, Harry," Apolline said as Molly let go of him. He shifted the bag off his shoulder and offered it to her. She took it and it vanished instantly.

"I've sent your and Ginny's things upstairs. Third room on the right will be yours," she said.

"Thanks," Harry said, his attention sliding away from Apolline Delacour and instead toward the pans of biscuits cooling on the counter.

"I still don't think that's proper. I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind bunking up with Harry for a few days and Hermione and Ginny have roomed together before," Molly said.

"Nonsense," Apolline said, waving her hand airily in Molly's general direction.

"They're all unmarried," Molly scoffed.

"And will just sneak into whatever room we don't put them in," Apolline said.

"I am very sneaky," Harry agreed, mostly to make Molly uncomfortable. Molly flushed a deep crimson as Apolline laughed.

"And they all know enough magic to be discreet," Apolline added.

"You're just not going to let me have this, are you?" Molly said as she continued to blush.

"No," Apolline smiled at the other matriarch.

"Are those biscuits ready yet?" Harry asked, giving Apolline Delacour his most practiced smile. In response she swatted him on the shoulder.

"You are as bad as Ronald. They are for tomorrow," she said.

"Yes, but I haven't had anything to eat since before the match," Harry responded.

"I am sure I could make you something," Molly said.

"I could make myself something," Harry said. "Or I could sneak a few of those candy cane biscuits."

"Oh fine," Apolline laughed and handed him a small assortment of Christmas biscuits. Harry ate the first one in one bite. "Just don't tell anyone else."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said with his mouth full. Arthur Wesley and Louis Delacour took that moment to enter the room. They were both laughing jovially about something and Harry turned away to finish the biscuits quickly.

"Harry!" Arthur yelled.

"Harry Potter!" Louis Delacour joined him. Harry turned and smiled at both of them, swallowing the last vestiges of the biscuit as he did.

"Hey," he said.

"Where's Ginny?" Arthur asked. "I thought she was supposed to get in before you."

"She did. But she ran into some friends at the portkey terminal and went to a party with them," Bill said.

"That girl," Molly scoffed with an amused smile. Arthur looked at Harry, concerning rising oh his face. But Harry responded with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"I promised the girls we would help finish decorating the tree," Louis said, clearly looking for a distraction.

"Then why are you here?" Apolline scolded.

"I was going to open up a bottle of the '74 for the occasion," Louis said.

"Good year," Harry commented, having no idea if it was or wasn't.

"Oh, you know wine?" Louis asked.

"I know I like drinking it," Harry said.

"A boy after my own heart," Louis laughed. "I'll bring you a glass."

"Thanks," Harry said.

"Your usual Bill?" Louis asked.

"I shouldn't. Not if Fleur can't drink as well," Bill said.

"I was going to make some cocoa. Why don't one of you go ask Gabrielle what she would prefer and go and tell Ron and Hermione that Harry has arrived. I am sure they will want to know," Apolline asked.

"I can take drink orders," Harry said.

"I'll get Ron and Hermione," Bill said. He turned and left through the same door they'd entered, heading toward the staircase. Harry stepped toward the other door that seemed to lead to the living room where he'd seen the girls decorating the tree.

"Hey," he said. Both Gabrielle and Fleur Delacour turned to face him.

"Harry!" the older witch, Fleur, turned and smiled at him. She still didn't quite get the H on his name out, but it was better than it had been years ago. She moved to him and hugged him.

"Hey Fleur," he smiled. "You're looking great. Congratulations, by the way, when are you due?"

"End of April," she said. "We have not found out the gender yet."

"Planning on it?" Harry asked.

"I do not think so," Fleur said. "We both are amused by the surprise."

"I'd be too impatient," Harry said.

"The only thing I am impatient for is it to be out of me. I am getting huge," she frowned. Her sister snorted, earning her a glare.

"Well you look great," Harry said.

"Thank you," Fleur said. "You remember Gabrielle."

"Of course," Harry said. The younger girl blushed. "She's looking quite lovely as well."

"Oh, uhm, thank you," Gabrielle flushed crimson and looked away from Harry, rushing to the tree to hang an ornament on it. Fleur gave Harry a bemused look. He remembered thinking that Gabrielle was probably around eight during the Triwizard Tournament but he'd been wrong. She'd only been four years younger than him, give or take a month or two. She was starting to look very much like Fleur had during that year, despite still being a few years younger than her sister.

But, despite their similar looks on paper, Gabrielle lacked a certain spark that her sister had. While Fleur was always the centre of attention, the most radiant thing in the room, Gabrielle managed to seem plain regardless.

Part of him wanted to ask about it. But there was no good way of broaching that subject. Ron may have been dumb enough to ask a girl why she didn't have the same spark as her sister. But Harry figured it would be better to not cripple the girl's self-esteem.

"Is Ginny joining us?" Fleur asked.

"Not until later," Harry said. "I was supposed to get drink orders. But Bill had not succeeded in rousing Ron and Hermione yet."

"Sure he has," Ron Weasley said, slapping him on the back. "Any thought of transferring to Chudley yet?"

"No," Harry said.

"Come on, you'd start there for sure," Ron groaned.

"I'll start in Ballycastle eventually too," he said.

"I don't know, Parker is damn good," Ron said.

"A ringing endorsement of your best friend there," Hermione Granger scoffed. She hugged him as she entered the room.

"Well you know, Ginny is already starting," Ron said.

"I heard that," Harry responded.

"Ron enough quidditch talk," Hermione said.

"I was supposed to take drink orders," Harry said, doing his best to change the subject.

"I'll take some wine," Hermione said.

"I am fine," Fleur said.

"Firewhiskey!" Ron exclaimed.

"Really Ron?" Hermione scoffed.

"Hey I like it," Ron responded.

"I would like a wine," Gabrielle said. Harry nodded at the orders and made his way back to the kitchen. Louis Delacour was just uncorking a wine as Harry re-entered the kitchen.

"Fleur was fine, Ron wanted a whisky, Hermione and Gabrielle a wine," Harry said as he re-entered the kitchen.

"Is Gabrielle old enough—" Molly started but stopped abruptly. Harry could tell she wouldn't have served Ginny at that age, but regretted saying anything as it was not her home.

"She is fifteen, if she wants a glass of wine she can have a glass of wine," Apolline said. "It is Christmas after all. Only one glass though, Louis."

"Of course, Love," Louis said, drawing the requisite number of wine glasses. He floated the first filled one over to Harry. He plucked it out of the air and took a sip.

"That's damn good," he said. Louis smiled at him.

"One of the finest we stock," he said. "For special occasions and special guests."

"Well, Merry Christmas then," Harry said, raising his glass in salute of the holiday. Louis laughed jovially and did the same and they drank. A moment later he returned to the living room with the drinks floating behind him. They dispersed themselves as he entered.

"So, is this one of your traditions?" Ron asked as Fleur and Gabrielle continued to wander between the boxes containing wrapped ornaments and the tree, hanging them every couple of minutes.

"Yes," Fleur said. "Mother always liked doing it by hand."

"Mum always just did it by magic for us," Ron said.

"We did something similar," Hermione said to the Delacour sisters.

"What about you Harry?" Gabrielle asked as she unwrapped another ornament. A silence fell over the room and Harry saw the younger French girl blush and sip her wine as if she wished with every fibre of her being she could take back the question.

"Nothing similar," Harry said. "The Dursley's used a fake tree."

"Oh," Gabrielle said. "I do not like fake trees."

"Me either," Harry smiled. "You guys need a hand?"

"I don't think so," Fleur said. "We are almost finished. Sit and relax."

"Okay," Harry said, taking a seat on the couch in the room as all of the other guests filtered in. He immediately felt like he would rather do anything other than sit and relax. Apolline entered the room with her a try of cocoa, that Fleur beelined to and immediately filled two cups. Bringing one back to Bill on the loveseat. She sat with her head resting on his shoulder as Gabrielle soldiered on with the ornaments.

The adults started to chat. Harry found he had very little to add so he sat on the couch and sipped his wine. He noticed Ron and Hermione talking quietly to each other as Bill and Fleur discussed the Christmas fair with Apolline. Louis and Arthur seemed enraptured in continuing whatever conversation they were having before.

Harry quickly grew bored of trying to eavesdrop on the conversations and lost himself in thinking about why he was even there as an odd sense of loneliness spread through him. He hadn't been the one invited. Ginny was the Weasley that was supposed to be here. And yet she was out somewhere with friends, having a great time.

He shook that thought from his head, knowing that wasn't her intention. He hadn't even planned on taking the early portkey. But the match had ended early and he had no reason to stick around the stadium. He floo'd to say he'd be in early, but Ginny had already left, so he contacted Bill at the Delacourss to let them know. And that had worked, as far as getting someone to meet him at the terminal. But he'd imagined something more amusing.

He could picture himself in his mind, with Ginny laying against him on the couch as she had in the Gryffindor common room all of those years ago, as Hermione and Fleur were laying against Ron and Bill now. But his couch was empty. It was just him sitting on it, trying to find something clever to say as Arthur and Louis talked about ministry business and Apolline and Molly talked about the Christmas festival.

It became oddly unbearable for him as he knew that Ginny was not there and losing himself fin a fantasy was pointless. And that thought made him feel unbearably alone and distant from everyone else in the room.

He decided he had enough sitting on the couch and he moved over toward the box of ornaments on the table, deciding to join the only other loner in her work. He plucked one from the box Gabrielle returned from the tree.

"I've never decorated a tree before," he admitted. Gabrielle raised her brows and looked at him.

"Never? Not even at school?" Gabrielle asked.

"Never," Harry affirmed as he looked down at the ornament in his hands. It was a basic one, just a metallic golden ball on a hook. He held it up and looked at his reflection in it. He looked tired. Like he'd gotten up too early and been busy all day. Just looking at himself made him want to yawn.

"Well, come with me," Gabrielle said, plucking another ornament out of the box and leading him over to the tree.

"Is there a trick to it?" he asked, gazing up at the ten-foot pine that already seemed to have an ornament on every branch.

"Non. Just look for a branch that seems barren and hang your ornament. Like this," she said as she eyed the tree. She found a spot at about waist level and reached into the branches to hook the ornament around it. The weight brought the branch ever so slightly down and the ornament fell in line with one of the lights. The light reflected off of the crystal ornament she'd hung and Harry thought it looked rather appealing.

"I see," he said, peering at the tree. He took a moment to walk around it. Gabrielle stayed at his side. He found her presence oddly reassuring as her flowery perfume wafted up toward his nose. It reminded him of Ginny and he realized the girls were about the same height.

He turned his attention back to the tree and found a nearly empty branch near the top. He reached up and hooked the ornament around the branch and let go. He almost grabbed it as the weight of it pulled the branch down, assuming he'd done something wrong. But then he remembered how silly that was and instead stepped back to look at it.

"Perfect," Gabrielle said.

"Well I don't know that I'd go that far," Harry responded.

"It looks nice," Gabrielle said. "And that is all that really matters. So it is perfect. Now we do it again."

"Okay," Harry responded. He walked back to the bin of ornaments and took another one out. This one was a plastic bottle of champagne. He peered at it for a moment before finding a spot for it on the tree.

He continued then, losing himself in the routine of it, finding it quite amusing as a turkey joined the bottle of champagne. A couple of birds were his next victims. And then a snowflake, a crystal ball, a group of four wands paired together, a unicorn, and a quaffle followed. But then he returned to the bin of ornaments and saw that it was empty.

"Okay Papa," Gabrielle said, taking her wine glass and sitting on the same couch Harry had vacated a few moments before. "That is all of them. All that is left is for you and Maman to finish it up."

"Is that right?" Louis asked. "Are you girls sure?"

"Positive," Fleur said, sitting up from Bill and smiling rather brightly at her father.

"And you too, Elle?" Louis asked.

"I am sure," Gabrielle nodded. She sipped her wine as Harry sat on the couch next to her.

"Well I think we should refill our drinks first," Louis said. He lifted his wand and the bottles of alcohol floated in from the kitchen.

"Oh, come now, Papa!" Fleur whined.

"You never were very patient, pétale," Louis said.

"Petal?" Bill whispered with a smirk, earning a glare and an elbow from his wife. Who, once she'd finished with him, turned her glare directly on her father.

"After all the work they did today it is rather rude to keep them waiting, Louis," Apolline said as the bottle of liquor floated over to Ron and refilled his glass. A trio of wine decanters refilled everyone else's. Including, to Harry's surprise, Gabrielle's although it waited until Mrs. Weasley's attention was elsewhere.

"Well I suppose you're right," Louis said as he pulled himself to his feet. He set his wine glass down and moved slowly toward the tree. Harry noticed both Fleur and Gabriele sat on the edge of their seats as he watched what could have only been a family ritual.

"How does it look?" Apolline asked. Louis didn't respond right away. Instead he spent a moment seeming to examine every branch of the tree and then turned back to his family and his guests.

"Like it's missing something," he said. "Mister Potter can I ask your assistance?"

"Uh sure," Harry said, unable to hide his surprise. He stood, but not after taking another sip of his wine, and walked back over toward the tree.

"What do you think?" he asked with a sweeping gesture toward the tree.

"I think it looks great," Harry admitted. And he thought it did too, even without being biased at his own effort. It was a large tree, decorated down to nearly every pine needle. He frowned as he tried, and failed, to look for a fault.

"It does. But it's missing a top!" And with a flourish of his wand a golden star appeared before him. He held it out to Harry. "Would you like to do the honours?"

"I shouldn't," Harry blushed. "I already feel like I'm intruding."

"Nonsense!" the man said. He held his wand slightly higher and the star levitated toward Harry.

"Go ahead, Harry," Fleur said quietly. Harry nodded and held out his own wand, taking the levitated star into his own power and staring at it for a moment. He took a deep breath, finding it odd that he found himself so nervous, and started to raise the star to the top of the tree.

His mind filled with all manner of how he could screw it up. He half expected that as soon as his magic touched the tree it would burst into flames and ruin the entire decorative motif. And then he'd be to blame for ruining the holiday. Much like his presence had ruined the holidays while he stayed at Privet Drive.

But no such drama occurred as he lowered the star back down onto the top of the tree. He felt Louis Delacour secure it with magic and he let his own levitating spell lapse as he smiled up at the now glowing star.

"There," he said admiring his own handiwork and feeling weirdly proud of himself. "Is it done?"

"Not quite," Louis said. "If you would be so kind, Cherie?"

"Gladly," Apolline said as she too took out her wand. She took her own turn pacing the tree as Harry took his seat next to Gabrielle again. She beamed at him for a moment, at least for long enough to realize what she was doing before she blushed and looked away. Harry's attention was too focused on the tree to notice, though.

Apolline raised her wand and with a practiced flourish tinsel burst from the tip of her wand and started to arrange itself decoratively around the tree. It took her perhaps five minutes of adjusting before she changed her tactic and magical snow started to cling to the branches as well. After a few more minutes the tree looked finished and she turned back to her family.

"Bravo," Fleur said.

"It's beautiful," Harry nodded.

"Can you show me that tinsel spell?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Apolline smiled. She walked over toward Hermione and did show her the movements. Ron laughed and rolled his eyes at his girlfriend and continued drinking his whisky.

The conversation continued. This time Harry noticed that Arthur and Louis tried to keep him in the loop. He appreciated it, but it became quickly apparent that he didn't really have anything of note to add to their conversations.

Gabrielle, to her credit, tried to ask him about the life of a Quidditch pro. But he couldn't seem to find the words to make it sound like it was anything other than a dull routine. Still, she gazed at him with bright blue eyes and seemed to hang off his words. But Harry found himself with surprisingly little to say. He tried to say more, to stay interesting, but he knew the shortness of his responses must have made it seem like he was uninterested in talking to her. And Apolline Delacour picked up on that.

"Perhaps we could do with some festive music," she said.

"I know a wonderful wireless program," Molly Weasley said.

"Nonsense," Apolline said. "Gabrielle will play us something on the piano."

"Do I have to?" Gabrielle groaned.

"Yes. I would love some live music," Apolline said and gestured to a piano in the corner of the room. Harry hadn't noticed it to that point but he'd been rather distracted by the tree and the decorations.

"Well fine, but only if Fleur sings," Gabrielle said. She stood and moved slowly toward the piano, as if dreading it.

"I cannot," Fleur said, her hand fluttering to her stomach as she made a face. Harry raised his brows at her, getting the distinct feeling that she was using it as an excuse. But he also knew that he wasn't about to call her out on it.

"Please?" Gabrielle pleaded as she sat at the stool in front of the piano, peering down at the keys. Harry didn't think she'd voice it, but he could tell she did not want to be the centre of attention. He wondered how much of that came from growing up in her sister's shadow.

"You will have to grow accustomed to performing soon enough, Elle," Her mother scolded. Gabrielle looked down at her fingers on the keys.

"I sing," Harry said, before he really realized what he was agreeing to. He couldn't remember the last time he sang aloud, much less in front of people. He stood and moved over to the piano wondering why he was going to embarrass himself.

"You do not have to do that," Apolline said. "You are a guest."

"I know," Harry said, scolding himself for not talking the out that appeared before him. "But it should be fun."

"What songs do you know?" Gabrielle asked as Harry stood next to the piano.

"Oh, you know, the basics," Harry said. "I've, uh, never really sang when not alone in the shower so go easy on me to start will you?"

"Anything to distract from my playing," she said as she ran through a quick scale. She paused for a moment to stretch her fingers and then started with a few familiar notes. Harry let his voice join the notes as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer filled the room. Followed by a rousing rendition of Frosty the Snowman before she surprised him with Santa Claus Coming to Town.

Harry found himself rather surprised by how easily the words returned to him, songs he last remembered singing in primary school. He took a few minutes after the third song to sip some more of his wine while Gabrielle played Jingle Bells. She looked at him while he stopped singing but kept playing and he returned to her side. She surprised him then with God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen followed by Three Kings. He did not remember the words to those and improvised, drawing quite a few laughs as he did.

"You are terrible," Fleur said, standing and walking toward the couch with a bright smile on her face. She said something quickly in French to Gabrielle and she started playing something slower. Fleur waited a few measures before joining in, in French. It was melodic and captivating, despite Harry only being able to pick up a few words here or there. The sisters continued for another song before Fleur sat next to her at the piano and made her join in a duet.

Gabrielle's voice was considerably softer than her sister's but it made for a nice contrast between the two of them. Once they finished that song Fleur ruffled her sister's hair and returned to Bill on their couch.

Gabrielle shifted the tempo and started on the Twelve Days of Christmas. Harry improvised almost every one of the gifts and moved around the room making each of the other guests add something in. Gabrielle seemed to pick up on what he was doing and would pause until they said something, before continuing. Every guest was laughing as a rousing round ended the song.

After she moved on to Silent Night, slowing down as she continued the song. Harry found himself quite tired after she finished and returned to his wine. He saw Fleur was pretty much asleep on Bill and Ron was nodding off as well.

"I think that is enough, Elle," Louis said. Gabrielle nodded and stopped playing. She moved back to the couch and her wine glass, sitting next to Harry. She gave him a brief smile before blushing and looking away.

"I think it's time for me to take Fleur to bed," Bill said. He stood and lifted Fleur easily as nearly everyone said some rendition of good night as they left the room.

"Perhaps it's time for everyone to turn in," Arthur said as he and Molly rose.

"A good idea. It is getting late," Louis said.

"Gabrielle would you mind?" Apolline said, gesturing to the empty try of cocoa and glasses littered around the room as everyone stated to disperse.

"Non Maman," Gabrielle said. Harry found it to be odd that the only one who couldn't use magic was stuck cleaning up so he helped her by gathering some of the glasses as well. No one commented as he followed her into the kitchen.

He helped her clean with magic. It barely took a couple of minutes and she seemed rather thankful for his help. It was only about eleven in the evening then. He frowned. He'd grown accustomed to staying up much later than that.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said from his side. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

"Oh no problem," Harry responded.

"A guest shouldn't have to help," Gabrielle said.

"Nonsense, everyone should pitch in," Harry said.

"At least I can say I tried to get you to not help," Gabrielle said.

"Don't worry, if anyone asks I'll claim I refused to be indolent," Harry said.

"I appreciate that," Gabrielle smiled at him.

"I'm surprised you're home from school already," Harry said.

"Today was our final day of term. I am off until the New Years," Gabrielle said.

"A nice long break," Harry responded.

"Yes. I only stay home for the holiday. I will probably go back after Christmas," she said.

"I always stayed at Hogwarts for the whole term," Harry said.

"I would have been trying to flee to warmer climates from my brief experience there," Gabrielle said.

"Didn't have any to go to," Harry said.

"That would be a problem," Gabrielle said.

"Quite," Harry responded as she finished putting away the now clean dishes. "Now would you be willing to show me to wherever I'm sleeping?"

"Of course," Gabrielle said as she dried her hands and then led him out of the kitchen. The walked down main hallway, away from the living room and toward the stairs once more. He followed her up the stairs and down the hallway. Harry could sense the magic upstairs and he realized quickly that many of the rooms were not permanent parts of the house. She stopped outside of one of them.

"I believe this was you and Ginny," she said. "But you are going to be the one who opens the door so I do not get yelled at if it is your friends and they are naked."

"Oh sure, use me as a scapegoat," Harry said.

"Yes," Gabrielle nodded. Harry opened the door and found the room empty save for his and Ginny's bags.

"All clear," Harry said.

"Good," Gabrielle smiled. "Good night then, Harry."

"Good night, Elle," he responded, barely realizing he used the diminutive her father had used. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. It reminded him quite a lot of most hotels he'd ever stayed in. He saw a large king bed in the middle of the room, a closet, a desk with a lamp on it, a vanity, and another standing lamp in a corner by the dresser. He took Ginny's bag and set it on the chair at the vanity before turning his attention back to his bag.

He dug through it purely to find some sleepwear, pulling a pair of athletic shorts from the bag with a clean white shirt and his toiletries. He gathered the clothing in his hand and moved the bag to a chair in the corner.

He moved into the bathroom, the thought of a nice warm shower appealing to him. The large tub in the bathroom won out though and he found himself relaxing in it. He dozed a bit, hoping that he'd hear the sound of the door opening and Ginny returning. But that sound didn't come.

An hour or so later he gave up and left the tub, feeling relaxed and refreshed. He dried with magic and threw on his clothing before returning to the bedroom. A wave of his wand darkened the lights in the room and he crawled into bed, curling up with the warm blankets and waiting for sleep.

It took longer to come than he would have liked, thoughts swirling through his head as he waited for sleep to take him. He wondered why he'd decided to rush off to the party after the match ended quickly. He could have kept his plans as normal and not felt like such an out of place burden at the Delacour/Weasley family Christmas.

None of them thought of him as a burden. He knew that it was stupid of him to even think that. But years of the Dursleys had taken their toll, and he knew it would take a while before he ever really trusted his feelings around other families. Ginny would have made him feel like less of an outsider. But Ginny wasn't there. He wondered just where she was at that moment, just what she was doing.

A momentary pang of jealousy shot through him. But he shrugged it off. He had no reason to be jealous. He trusted her and knew she trusted him. But he would have liked her to be there. It was her family, after all. Not his.

He knew that was wrong to think. But it was the truth. They were not his family. Yes, they'd done plenty for him over the years. But he was still the outsider in the group. And he really disliked being the outsider in the group. He hated being the other. Being the one that didn't fit. Being the one that needed to be hidden away in the closet underneath the stairs.

He shoved that thought from his head almost as quickly as it came back and rolled over onto his side, thinking happier thoughts about Christmas carols and holidays of the past. That turned into counting reindeer and then he did eventually fall asleep, hoping that he'd be woken in the middle of the night by a beautiful redhead crawling into bed with him.

But the morning came without any interruption. The sun working gleaming through the windows woke him. His bed was woefully empty and didn't even have the warmth of another body leaving it recently.

He crawled out of bed, showered quickly, shaved and dressed in jeans and a jumper before heading downstairs, curious as to what he would find. He heard voices from the kitchen and entered to find Hermione, Apolline, and Gabrielle.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning Harry," Hermione responded.

"Would you like some coffee?" Apolline asked.

"Please," Harry said and found a mug of it before him a few moments later.

"Help yourself, too," she added, gesturing to a platter of pieces of baguette and croissants on the kitchen counter. Harry picked one off the table and started eating with the coffee.

"Thanks," he said.

"I had just asked Hermione if she and Ron would like to visit the Christmas Market this afternoon with the rest of the family," Apolline asked.

"I'd love to. I know Ginny was excited for the market," Harry said. "It's all she talked about for most of last week." It was mostly true. She mentioned it once or twice. But most of what she talked about was quidditch.

"Did she sneak in during the night?" Apolline asked.

"No," Harry said. "But I'm sure she'll show up today. She was never much of a morning person. What time was everyone planning on leaving?"

"Around four," she smiled and turned to leave the room. "But now I'm going to rouse my husband."

"How have you been, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm well," he said. "How's the ministry?"

"It's going well. It's a little tedious being on the bottom rung but my department head has been giving me more responsibility lately. I think I should move up quickly," Hermione said.

"Good they could all use a kick in the ass," Harry said.

"Why?" Gabrielle asked.

"Harry dislikes politicians," Hermione said.

"My father is a politician," Gabrielle said.

"English politicians," Harry amended while Hermione attempted to remove her foot from her mouth. "The ones that made my life hell for three years and now all want to be photographed next to me."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm Harry Potter. And if they're next to me and we're all smiling then they might not have tried to sell me to Snatchers during the war," Harry said.

"There was very little evidence of that, Harry," Hermione frowned. "Most just did what they were told."

"You know I don't think that makes it any better," Harry said. "But we don't need to have this argument again."

"My father did what he was told during the war," Gabrielle said.

"No," Harry shook his head. "He didn't."

"But he said," Gabrielle frowned.

"Your father offered me shelter and a safe house, against the will of quite a few people. Although I'm not sure they knew. I didn't take him up on the offer because of what I had to do. Hiding wouldn't have ended anything. We could still be hiding," Harry said.

"He never said that he did anything like that," Gabrielle frowned.

"Your father is not the type to seek acclaim. He's a good man with a good sense of right and wrong. And he tried to do what he thought was right. That's more than almost any politician in England can say right now. It's no wonder he and Arthur get on so well," Harry said.

"Oh," Gabrielle said, looking surprised by Harry's words.

"Does Ginny know any way to get here other than the inn in town?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so," Hermione said.

"I think I'm going to go for a run then head down there and wait," Harry said. Patronus me if she shows up?" Harry said.

"I will," Hermione said. Harry couldn't read her expression. It looked desperately like she wanted to continue talking. But she knew better than to press him. And she had more important things to do, like get Ron out of bed and feed him so he wasn't grumpy for the rest of the day. He turned and left the kitchen.

"Did I say something wrong?" he heard Gabrielle ask behind him.

"No," Hermione responded. "That's just Harry. I'll explain later."

"Okay," Gabrielle said as he opened the door and left the building. He remembered the walk down to the inn readily enough. He stretched and waved his wand so his clothing dissolved into standard Bats workout clothing. He remembered the walk to the Inn and wasn't sure it would be that good of a run. So he started out in the other direction at a brisk jog. He gave it a good twenty minutes before he turned around and proceeded toward the Inn. Hermione and Ron were outside looking at the Delacour's home as he finished passed. Ron looked at him like he was insane as he ran by and Harry yelled that he should join him.

He made it to the town not much time later. He walked for a few blocks as a cooldown and then used magic to clean himself and change his clothing back into something more presentable. He entered the inn once his breathing returned to a normal level.

He sat at the bar and ordered a coffee. The glare from the bartender changed his drink order into a Bloody Mary. He sipped at it as he waited for Ginny.

He ordered a charcuterie plate with his second drink and picked at that as the minutes ticked on. The man behind the bar made polite conversation with him here or there. Harry suspected he recognized him but the man was professional enough to not press him on it.

About halfway through his third drink and the rest of the meat he realized he didn't really want to sit in the inn and drink all day. His annoyance at a distinct lack of Ginny or a Patronus telling him she was at the house started to bubble over and he knew he didn't want to focus more on that. A glance at his watch revealed it was just past noon. He threw ample coins down on the bar and started the saunter back to the Delacour house.

He was less annoyed and far more rational by the time he returned to the house. He walked up toward the door when something caught him out. He looked around for the source of the noise but didn't see anything. So instead he turned and investigated the shimmery noise as it sped up. He moved through the woods behind the house and continued to follow it and it became sombre, then happy, then airy. It took him nearly an hour of wandering through the woods to find the source. Twice it stopped and he found himself turned around and confused. Had he not known he could Apparate he would have been rather concerned about the situation. But both times the sound returned.

Eventually, he entered a clearing and saw Gabrielle sitting on tree stump, her eyes closed, as she played a shiny silver flute. She continued, oblivious to his presence as he stepped into the clearing. A horse was tied to a tree near her. It was saddled and looked quite bored as it attempted to graze. She finished the song drew the flute from her lips and opened her eyes.

"That was good," Harry said.

"Oh!" she nearly jumped off the log, her hands flying into the air in shock, the flute flying up into the sky. She fumbled after it but Harry caught it with a levitating charm and floated it back down to her hands.

"Sorry," he said.

"You startled me," she said.

"Well I didn't want to interrupt," he said. "I take it you like music?"

"Yes," she said. "Piano was father's idea. I always preferred the woodwinds."

"Anything you can't play?" Harry teased.

"I can only play those two. I guess three if you count the piccolo," she frowned, looking like thought she disappointed him.

"Well, three more than me," Harry said. "Although I did bang on Dudley's drum set once or twice when they weren't home."

"How was that?" Gabrielle asked.

"No idea," Harry shrugged. "Honestly it just felt good to hit something."

"I see," Gabrielle said, as if she wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"I know, my relatives make a terrible conversation starter," Harry said. "I've just felt oddly reflective lately."

"I am told the holidays do that," Gabrielle said.

"I thought that was only for old people," Harry responded.

"You said it, not me," Gabrielle said.

"Ouch," he said. Gabrielle started to take the flute apart and put it back in the case that rested next to her on the tree stump.

"I am sorry," she said.

"It's alright. I'm a big boy. I'll live. Are you done playing?" He asked.

"I have been at it for over an hour I think it is time to go back home and warm up and then dress up for the market," she said.

"I have to dress up for the market?" Harry asked.

"You are Harry Potter. Do you have to dress up for anything?" she asked.

"I doubt it," Harry said. "But I have never tested that theory."

"I am sure you will be fine in whatever you decide to wear. But perhaps something that does not have a bat on it if you are trying to be incognito," Gabrielle said. Harry gazed down at his jumper, and was only moderately surprised to find the team logo on it.

"Huh," he said.

"You cannot pay that little attention when you dress yourself," Gabrielle said.

"You'd be surprised," Harry responded. She closed the flute case and slipped off her perch.

"Anyway. You will be fine. But you are not a Delacour at the Christmas Market. Because of our family involvement we must look the part," Gabrielle said.

"You're French," Harry said. "Isn't being hoity-toity and dressing up supposed to turn you on?"

"No, that is the Italians," Gabrielle said as she plucked a black helmet from the ground near her feat and moved over toward the horse. Harry followed her.

"Oh, I can't believe I got that wrong," he said as sarcastically as he could manage.

"I can," she said as she untied the horse from the tree and led it around in a circle. It followed her without much prodding.

"Do you ride often?" he asked.

"Less than I did as a child. Fleur liked them more than I did. But it is quicker down the path if you ride than walk. And they need their exercise," Gabrielle said as she turned the horse and started very slowly down the path.

"Huh," Harry said.

"What?" Gabrielle asked.

"There's a path," he said.

"Yes, it leads right to the stables," Gabrielle said.

"Interesting," Harry said.

"Did you wander through the forest to get here?" Gabrielle asked.

"Of course not," Harry said. "That would be silly."

"I do not believe you," Gabrielle laughed.

"Well I was distracted by the music and wanted to find the source of the sound. And have not been known for my ability to think ahead or plan," Harry said.

"Does that not make you worse at quidditch?" Gabrielle asked.

"That might explain my reservist status," Harry said.

"There are rumours that you may not be one for long," Gabrielle said.

"And how would you know that?" Harry asked.

"Do you think that every girl in Europe isn't at least mildly aware of Harry Potter's Quidditch career?" Gabrielle asked.

"I guess that explains how I have the highest selling jersey for the Bats," Harry said. "Please tell me you don't have one."

"I do not, but Christmas is just around the corner," she said.

"Oh good," Harry laughed.

"I do not anticipate getting one. I think my mother would hex me if I wore something that unfashionable. And I can only imagine what my friends would say. It took three years before I convinced them I was never in any danger in the lake," Gabrielle said.

"I still can't believe I fell for that," he scoffed.

"Fleur did too. They did a good job convincing you," Gabrielle said.

"I suppose,' Harry said. "Still a sore spot."

"You still won," Gabrielle said.

"I did," Harry responded. "But enough talking about me."

"I feel like the war hero and Quidditch player is more interesting than the schoolgirl," Gabrielle said.

"Perhaps, but I hate talking about me," Harry said.

"I see," Gabrielle said. "I am afraid I am not very good at coming up with conversation. Everyone tells me I am quiet."

"I'm quiet too," Harry said. "But how about you tell me about the horse?"

"I can do that," Gabrielle said. And she started talking about her horse, patting him on the neck as she did. Harry listened to her talk and kept pace next to her. The walk back to the stables only took about another half hour now that they followed the path.

He insisted on helping her put everything away and brush the horse after. She bossed him around quite expertly. Right about the same moment that they finished a silvery otter entered the stable and ran around him.

"What is that?" Gabrielle asked.

"Hermione's Patronus," Harry said. "Ginny is here."

"About time," Gabrielle scoffed. Harry raised his brows at her.

"I'm going to go see her," Harry said.

"Have fun," Gabrielle smiled at him. "I will see you at the market."

"I look forward to it," he said.

A few minutes later he found himself in the Delacour kitchen. He hugged Ginny immediately upon entering. She hugged him back, kissed him, and slipped out of his arms.

"Hey Gin," he smiled down at her. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater and had sunglasses on.

"Hi Harry," she said, squeezing his hand gently.

"How were your friends?" he asked.

"They're doing well," she said. Harry peered around the kitchen. Only Hermione was there with them at the moment and she had her lips pressed tightly together in obvious annoyance.

"That's good. What did you guys get up to last night?" he asked.

"Hit up a club in Muggle Bordeaux," she said. "Do you know where I'm sleeping? I could use a shower and a change of clothing."

"Of course," Harry said. "I'll show you."

"Great," Ginny said. She took his hand and let him lead her from the kitchen and up to their bedroom.

"And here we are," he said as he stepped in.

"My mother is letting us stay in the same room?" Ginny asked. She pulled her jumper off and shimmied out of her jeans almost before the door to the room closed.

"She wasn't thrilled with the idea, but Mrs. Delacour pointed out that we'd all just sneak into the room we wanted to be in anyway," Harry said.

"I knew I liked that woman. You mind if I catch a quick shower?" she asked. She took off the sunglasses and put them down at the vanity. Her eyes were rather bloodshot.

"Go for it," he said. She rushed over and kissed him but then shot quickly into the bathroom. Harry threw himself onto the bed and closed his eyes. He came to a few minutes later to find Ginny rifling through her bag and heading back to the bathroom.

She emerged a few minutes later. She sniffed once and pinched her nose then smiled over at him on the bed. She deposited her old clothing in her bag and then joined him on the bed, crawling into the crook of his arm.

"What's the plan for tonight?" she asked.

"We're going to the Christmas Market around four," Harry said.

"I went to that last night," Ginny responded. "It was pretty boring."

"Gin," Harry sighed.

"What? They said I had to see it," she said as if she hadn't had a choice in the matter.

"Well you're going to see it again. Because I want to and because Mrs. Delacour wants to show us every inch of it. And you're going to be cheerful about it," Harry said, teasingly.

"Yes daddy," Ginny scoffed.

"Gross," Harry said.

"What have you been doing all day?" Ginny asked.

"I went for a run in the morning and then wandered in the forest. Ran into Gabrielle while she was practicing the flute and she showed me the stables," Harry said.

"Half of that sounds like a euphemism for sex," Ginny said.

"I guess it does," Harry laughed.

"But really, the French girl?" she scoffed.

"We were the only two unoccupied," Harry shrugged.

"Is she as bad as Phlegm?" Ginny asked.

"I thought you liked Fleur now?" Harry asked.

"I guess she's alright. Just so sick of mom talking about grand kids. I hope she gets fat," Ginny said.

"Tell me how you really feel," Harry laughed.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked.

"About three thirty," Harry said. "So, about time to head back downstairs and be gracious guests."

"Do we really have to?" Ginny asked.

"Of course we do," he said. He slipped away from her and pulled her to her feet. She resisted him as far as the doorway, making a playful game out of it. But once they were back among her family the attitude melted away and she was a perfect, playful companion.

She stood right near Apolline Delacour as the French matron told them all about the Bordeaux Christmas Market. Despite it being a lecture that would have rivalled anything Professor Binns could have thought up, she remained engaged the entire time, asking pertinent questions every so often.

Harry stayed by her side for most of it. She slipped away once, claiming she eyed something quite interesting. She came back with a smirk on her face as she rubbed her nose against the cold winds. When he asked what she found she'd just giggled and said he'd find out later.

They spent a few hours at the market. Harry enjoyed it more than Ginny. He could tell she grew bored after about a half hour. But she managed to put on a brave face whenever any of her family were around.

The twins joined the group while they were at the market and Ginny immediately explored it with them. Harry shifted toward Ron and Hermione when Ginny left to chase after the twins.

Unfortunately he immediately felt like a third wheel. So he pretended to be incredibly interested in one of the vendors until Ron and Hermione moved on to the next one. He looked around for Ginny and couldn't see it. His eyes found Gabrielle. She was trailing a few feet behind Bill and Fleur, looking exactly how he felt. He moved over toward her, intending to free them both from their momentary problem. But instead Ginny appeared at his side, holding two white cups.

"Hot chocolate?" she asked.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking one of the cups and sipping from it.

"You should come over and check out this booth here. It's got all sorts of these little figurines of what Muggles think elves look like and it's adorable," Ginny said, pulling him in the opposite direction.

"Any of them as cute as Kreacher?" Harry asked.

"Not even close. And next to it there's all sorts of fancy ornaments. I think we should pick one out for our trees," Ginny said.

"Sounds fun," Harry agreed. It took them the better part of a half hour to find one they both found suitable. And by that time Apolline was trying to round everyone up to return to the house for what would be their Christmas dinner.

It was a rowdy affair, with Fred and George testing out some holiday themed products during the middle of it. Molly started to shout at them, but the rest of the table seemed far too amused by the carolling pixies and whatever charm turned all of the silverware into candy canes.

They spent the rest of the night drinking around the tree again. This time it was Fred and George who serenaded them, at least until Harry, with slight urging from both Louis an Arthur, cast his most powerful silencing charm on them. It took them the better part of two hours to figure out how to counter it and once they had, their only real comment was to see how he'd done it.

It was enough to make Harry wonder just how long it would be until silencing toffee was on the shelves of the joke shop. He made sure to show them a weaker version of the charm.

The party wound down after and Harry found himself leading a slightly inebriated Ginny back to their bedroom. She was giggling rather a lot when they entered and then slipped into the bathroom to change.

He found it odd. Normally she had no qualms about changing in front of him. In fact, he would have guessed she enjoyed it, with how slowly she usually did it. He didn't remember that she'd bought something at the market until she came out of the bathroom wearing a very skimpy green and white furred outfit and matching hat.

"I don't think that's quite what Santa's helpers were going for," Harry said.

"Good thing I have no plans to help Santa," Ginny said, walking over to the bed and crawling onto him. He kissed her as she crawled into his lap, his senses seeming on fire as his lips touched the glitter around hers. He wondered just what it was and how she applied it but he lost himself in her a moment later.

The next morning came too soon. Ginny was already emerging from the bathroom, dressed in Harpies team gear as she started to pack up her belongings. She plucked her outfit form the night before from the ground and tossed it into the bag, rubbing her nose briefly after and then turned to look at him.

"You awake there?" she asked.

"Mmm," Harry yawned, running through the previous night in his head as he debated if he felt like staying awake or not. Despite knowing full well that sleep wouldn't return to him. He'd never been good about falling back asleep.

"Coach wanted to start some early morning practices," Ginny continued. It wasn't uncommon for the Harpies, although the Bats practices were all usually around eleven. I've got to catch an early portkey to be back in time. You'll be able to give everyone my best?"

"Of course," he said. "Ballycastle or Holyhead tonight?"

"Honestly I think I'm going to be a little sore and tired tonight. Can we call it Holyhead tomorrow?" she asked.

"Sure," Harry said. "Floo tonight?"

"Seven?" Ginny asked.

"Perfect," Harry agreed.

"Talk to you then," she said. She threw her back over her shoulder and walked over to the bed to kiss him once more. "Love you."

"Love you too," he said, earning himself another kiss, before Ginny left the room. He tried to go back to sleep but it didn't come. So instead he reviewed some Quidditch plays and waited until a more reasonable hour to dress and head downstairs. He had his breakfast with Bill, Fleur and Gabrielle before Apolline invited him to the market once more. He joined them, but only she and Louis went this time. Apolline had something she needed to take care of herself and Harry spent the time wandering the streets.

Once they got back though, the Weasley clan was setting up to leave. Molly asked about Ginny and Harry relayed that she had an early practice that day. Fleur and Bill were staying on until Christmas Eve, but it was time for the rest of them to go home.

Bill walked them to the inn, where they once again floo'd to the portkey terminal. Minutes later he found himself back in London. But he only stayed there long enough to see the rest of the Weasley's off. After they were on their way back to their homes he popped over to his Ballycastle flat.

It was a modern two bedroom in a new building. The team had suggested it. They were fine with him living in London. But they implied that many players found it good to be seen in the area and to become locals. And Harry didn't mind. Being able to travel nearly instantly between his London flat and his Ballycastle flat was also a perk.

He checked his messages, there was only one, requesting he stop by the stadium when he returned from his vacation. He took his floo to the stadium. The gate guard greeted him with a smile and a wave, barely paying attention as he passed through the magically guarded player's entrance.

The team manager was already talking with someone behind his closed office door. Barker didn't have many hard and fast rules, but one was that his office was only open if the door was open. Barker caught his eye through the glass and gave him a nod. Harry took it to mean that he'd come get him when he was ready. He tried to make out who the manager was talking to but he didn't recognize the other man.

He passed the time by pacing the stadium. He found himself in the team store, merely because it was there, staring up at a wall of Jerseys. Parker, Potter, Button and Quigley were the four main ones on display, lined up in order of number, 7, 17, 18, and 81. It was odd seeing his name on the back of a jersey, the lettering floating above the number seventeen. The reality of it still hadn't set in. He'd watched Quigley in the World Cup all those years ago. And how his Jersey was next to the Irish Legend's.

A very perky and very helpful store staff member came over to him and asked if he needed any help. Once she realized who he was she batted her eyelashes as she asked if there was absolutely anything at all she could do for him. He examined her and an idea struck him.

"What size are you?" he asked, she had a very similar figure to Gabrielle. The girl blinked at him as if she didn't understand the question at first.

"A ladies small, usually," she said.

"I'll take one of those, a Potter one," Harry said. He walked over to the counter and waited for the girl to return with the jersey.

"Here it is," she said, showing it to him.

"Can I have it wrapped and sent to Beauxbatons care of Gabrielle Delacour?" he asked, sliding the paper across the counter.

"Of course," she said, jotting the name down on a pad as she started to ring in the order. She looked up at Harry and then her eyes widened even more and shot to his side. She buried her face in her work then, a flush rising to her cheeks.

"Do I want to know?" Lewis Barker asked.

"It's a joke gift for a friend," Harry said as he turned to look at the manager. Barker was young for his position, a few years shy of forty and handsome.

"I see," Barker said.

"I got your message," Harry said as he paid for the jersey. Barker led him out of the shop after he finished paying.

"I didn't expect you back until tomorrow," the manager said.

"I was a little surprised you were still here too. But I had nothing better to do so I stopped in just to see what you wanted," Harry said.

"Wigtown is going to buy Parker in the winter transfer window," Barker said.

"I assumed someone would be after me instead," Harry said.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere," Barker said.

"What?" Harry asked. He'd never thought the manager was that interested in his play. He'd always been distant. He'd assumed his career had been the owner's decision and one that the manager had to tolerate for the time being. So he'd kept his head down and worked as hard as he could to try to prove him wrong. But Barker hadn't ever seemed to warm up to him.

"You outflew a damned Dragon at fourteen shocking even Viktor Krum. You came to us raw but I expected that and we're fixing it. You've already shown flashes of brilliance. Parker is steady. I'm betting you can be better than that. You're starting our next match against Caerphilly. If Parker gives you any gruff let me know."

"Uh, wow," Harry said.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," Barker said before turning to return to his office. Harry smiled to himself, his mind filled with breaking the news to Ginny and how happy she would be for him.


	2. Pixie Dust

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for beta work.

Pixie Dust

January 9-10, 2001

"It's just pixie dust," Ron Weasley shrugged. "I've done it. You've probably done it if she's doing it. Hermione won't put anything up her nose."

"It's still a banned substance," Harry said. They were sitting out on the balcony of the Thestral's Wing, a small, second storey bar down the road from the joke shop. The magically heated air blew around them as Harry stared down at the people enjoying their day out in Diagon alley. He brought his spiced cider to his mouth and let his mind wander toward the signs he'd missed.

"Yeah, but like not a big deal one. A couple of games if you get caught. And it's not like they drug test often," Ron said.

"And I'm not sure it's just pixie dust," Harry said.

"I doubt it. Ginny isn't stupid," Ron said.

"She was high all Christmas, Ron. It was embarrassing."

"If she was I don't think anyone noticed. And aren't you living together? Don't you know what she's doing?"

"Do you know everything Hermione does?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much," Ron said. "But honestly she's a little dull."

"And we're not living together," Harry said.

"Really? I thought I heard her talking to dad about how you were moving in together in Holyhead," Ron said.

"We did it for like a month. She claimed she liked having her space too much. I moved out a few weeks ago. I'm back in Ballycastle most of the time," Harry said.

"Sorry I should have known that. But this holiday season was chaotic," Ron said.

"I get it," Harry said. "Retail."

"But really, I mean we sell pixie dust in some of our adult themed products. It's not that big of a deal. Mostly it just makes you a bit randy," Ron said.

"You mix small quantities of it with agents that dilute it and still have warning labels on those products. You're not selling pure powder or having your clients snort it," Harry said.

"You're rather aware of our products," Ron said.

"I asked George about it at Christmas. He even monitors the creation of the products to make sure the ministry usage guidelines are followed to the letter," Harry said.

"Yes, I know," Ron said. "But still, it's pixie dust, it's harmless."

"She looks like shit, Ron," Harry said.

"I thought she looked fine last time I saw her," Ron said.

"No offense but I'm sure you're not looking that close," Harry said.

"You're right. I don't tend to examine my sister. Another round?" Ron asked.

"Please," Harry said, he examined his bottle and downed the last vestiges of it. Ron nodded and left the stool, walking over toward the bar to order. Harry leaned over the railing on the balcony and peered down into the alley once more. It was a quiet day, no doubt the reason why Ron has chosen it for their late-afternoon drinks.

A few patrons walked over toward him after Ron left. They talked of his last few matches, commenting that it was great to see him and how he was turning into an incredible player. Harry thanked them with a passive expression and commented where he felt it appropriate. He signed a few napkins, a chocolate frog card, and what he thought was someone else's bill, but it made no real difference to him.

Ron returned a few moments later with another round of drinks. Some of the stragglers talked to him briefly about the war. Ron didn't seem very comfortable about it. Their pubic version skipped quite a few of the details. But they seemed to know better than to stick around past their welcome.

"You're a lot better at that than you were a few years ago," Ron said when they were alone again.

"My first instinct is still to curse any strangers who approach me," Harry replied as he took a sip from his new drink.

"I'm sure. But now you don't look at them like you're going to curse them. It's an improvement," Ron said.

"I should practice that look. It might make press conferences easier," Harry said.

"You barely talk to the media. They complain about it all the time," Ron said.

"Where did you hear that?" Harry asked.

"Ministry parties. I tend to migrate toward the Games and Sports people when Hermione is talking with the big wigs," Ron said. "A lot of the reporters want them to talk to you to convince you it's your duty to do more press."

"That would go over well," Harry said.

"That's why I encouraged them to do it," Ron smirked. "The best part is that they think you and Draco made up after the war. They'll have him approach you about it."

"And I'll spend the rest of my life in Azkaban after," Harry said.

"Draco is smart enough to not come anywhere near you," Ron said. "But I enjoy the fact that his bosses will keep harping on him for it."

"I don't think the Bats would even let him in the same room as me if they could avoid it," Harry said.

"The team knows the history?" Ron asked.

"Titus does," Harry shrugged. "And it would not surprise me that he took appropriate precautions."

"He doesn't strike me as the type that thinks ahead," Ron said.

"He's not nearly as dumb as he likes people to think," Harry said.

"I didn't think you liked him," Ron said.

"I didn't at first. He's a bit like a tumour though, he grows on you," Harry responded.

"A ringing endorsement," Ron chuckled as he sipped his own drink.

"It suits him," Harry said. He brought his own drink to his lips. They were silent for a few minutes then. Both of them just peering out over the alley beneath them.

"Are you doing alright?" Ron asked.

"What?" Harry asked, feeling oddly caught off-guard by the question.

"I mean you've been pretty distant lately. And you've been in Ireland most of the time. Ginny comes to family dinner almost weekly. I think you've been to three," Ron said.

"Those were weekly?" Harry asked.

"For the last two years," Ron said.

"Huh," Harry said, sipping his drink.

"Ginny said she told you," Ron said.

"I must have not been paying attention," Harry said. But that didn't seem like something he would forget.

"Mum's been harping on me to get you to come more. She says you and Ginny are both too thin," Ron said.

"Yet I'm in the best shape of my life," Harry responded. But that wasn't the part of Ron's commentary that stuck in his head. Ginny did seem too thin. But pixie dust wasn't known for weight loss. Increased energy and libido could lead to that, he guessed, but it wasn't one of the more common side effects.

"I'm sure you are," he said. "I read that article Wood did about the workout routine to stay a professional. It's nuts."

"Well Wood is nuts. I think I do about two thirds of that, at best," Harry said.

"Anyway, you've been distant. I know I'm not one to talk given that I vanish for the entire autumn because of how busy the shop is around the holidays. But you really aren't around much," Ron said. "And I know you're busy. And, honestly Harry, you were never very good when you were alone."

"You're not wrong there," Harry said, focusing on the last point. The problem was that, at least in his mind, he wasn't alone. His teammates had grown into his friends. Titus Button one of the beaters and the team captain, was a near constant companion when he was in Ireland. Marcus Green, one of the chasers, joined them quite often as well, whether it was for media events or just general fun. In fact, two days previously they'd debated who was the best bowler and had spent an entire day at a local alley competing at it, much to the chagrin to the locals.

Marcus had won.

Then there was Finbar Quigley. He'd been a seasoned veteran when Harry watched him play on the Irish National team. Now older, his play wasn't quite as elite but he was the father figure on the team. He'd been the one Harry had approached first about his concerns with Ginny. The man had told him to try to get her family involved and to help. It hadn't been the best advice, but Harry knew it was all that he could say.

"You bottle things up when you're alone," Ron said. "And it tends to boil over eventually."

"Do I seem like I'm doing that now?" Harry asked. His words came out harsher than he thought, more accusatory. He'd intended for it to be a simple question He turned to look at Ron. He did everything he could to keep his words mellow. He wasn't angry. In point of fact, he knew Ron was right. He wasn't very good when he was left alone. He just didn't want Ron to think he was being defensive about it.

"No," Ron said. "But that won't prevent the women from worrying, you know?"

"Sexist," Harry said.

"Okay fine, so I worry too. But no, you seem fine. Still, you know how my mother gets. She means well but it can be annoying.

"Anyway, I don't think I'm the one that they should be worrying about," Harry said.

"I don't know that they'll believe you," Ron said.

"Do you?" Harry asked. Ron pressed his lips together and then brought his drink to them, taking a long pull from it.

"Yes and no," Ron said.

"Way to not answer the question," Harry said.

"I don't think you're making it up. I mean if you say she's snorting pixie dust…" Ron started.

"I've found it Ron. She has vials if it everywhere," Harry said. "Hell, she was the one who even told me what it was when I asked."

"Yeah. It's just... It's not that big of a deal, you know? Lots of people do it for recreation," Ron said.

"Daily?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron said. "I'm not an expert."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?" Ron asked.

"Of course," Harry said. "She avoids it. Or responds much like you have here."

"It's a magical culture thing. I mean sure, it's a drug. But it's not like injecting yourself with manticore venom or taking those dragon pills that are all the rage," Ron said.

"So I've heard," Harry sighed.

"Did she say why she does it?" Harry asked.

"Some friends got her into it. She loves the rush and how it makes her feel after matches," Harry said.

"And you think it's a problem?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "She's lost a lot of weight. She doesn't eat much. And excluding quidditch it's about all she wants to talk about."

"And you've done it?" Ron asked.

"A couple of times to try to fit in," Harry shrugged. The first time he'd gotten a bloody nose in addition to another annoyance that was difficult to remedy while his hand was occupied with holding a tissue against his nose since magic didn't seem to be able to quell the bleeding. Something he assumed, with the magical nature of the dust.

The second time had been better. But it had felt like there was something else in his brain, tickling him and pushing him toward certain actions. And he hadn't been opposed to those actions. But he didn't like the thought of something else in his head. No, he'd had enough experience with unwanted visitors up there to last him a lifetime. He hadn't touched it since.

"Not a fan?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said. "It felt like something else was in my head again."

"I can see why you wouldn't like that," Ron said.

"I think she gets mad at me when I won't do it," Harry said. "We fought about that a couple weeks ago."

"Did you tell her that?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry said. Ginny had simply crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him when he voiced that concern. She'd been possessed too, you know, she didn't feel that way about it at all. "She didn't have the same concerns."

"And then you refused to do it so she didn't get her way and became a pouty bitch," Ron said.

"That's a nice way to talk about your sister," Harry said.

"Ginny is a hag when she doesn't get her way. She always has been. She'd get away with plenty as a kid by just blaming me. And since she was the youngest and the girl," Ron shrugged his shoulders as if the gesture was enough to finish that thought.

"She can be stubborn," Harry agreed. He didn't find that trait unappealing. In fact, he liked people who stuck to their convictions. At least he thought he did. Now that he couldn't get her to go against them he was wondering if he liked that trait as much.

Of course, that thought made him feel like a horrible person that was trying far too hard to control his girlfriend. Something that he thought was oddly possessive and sexist. He didn't want to control Ginny. He just wanted Ginny to be Ginny.

Unfortunately, the Ginny that he remembered. The Ginny that had given him some of the best school days of his life when they started dating, and the Ginny that had filled his life after the war, was not the same Ginny that he saw now.

People changed, though. He knew that. Hell, he'd changed. At sixteen he'd been so sure he wanted to spend his entire life fighting. To be the guardian angel that saved people from dark wizards. To win the war and be the hero. He wanted to save people.

But now? He didn't want that at all. He'd realized that almost immediately after the war. Finally, when he didn't have to fight. He realized he hated it. He'd done enough fighting. He'd struggled enough. He wanted to have fun. He wanted to play and enjoy himself. And so he got back on the broom and did just that.

"I mean I hate to ask," Ron said. "But are you sure it's just not because you don't like it? Hermione calls me on that all the time. And I know you're not me. But sometimes an outside perspective can be good. And, well, you know."

"It's the amount that concerns me, Ron. I don't think I'd mind if it was an occasional thing. But, honestly, there are days where I think she likes it more than me," Harry said.

"Oh please. I doubt that. She reveres you," Ron said.

"Not so much since I caught the snitch from right under Wilson's nose," Harry commented.

"Serves her right for joining in the goal celebration," Ron said. "Game doesn't stop because of a scoring record in quidditch."

"It does not," Harry said. He had taken some flack in the media for that win. But most professional commentators shared Ron's view on the events. They both finished their second beers.

"Do you want me to bring it up with my parents?" he asked. "I can do that more discreetly than you can. I'm sure Hermione would share your views. But I think it's sort of that you're both more used to the Muggle world."

"I don't know," Harry said. "I guess I just wanted to talk to someone about it. Sorry if it ruined our day."

"Harry I've known you long enough to know that you do have her best interest at heart. How can I be upset that my best friend is looking out for my sister?" Ron asked. He paused for a moment before continuing. "There are a couple things though."

"What's that?" he asked.

"If she doesn't have a problem…I don't think Ginny will see it as looking out for her. If it becomes a whole big thing because you were just blowing something out of proportion then I think she'll be rather cross with you," Ron said.

"I think 'rather cross' might be an understatement. I still remember her proclivity for certain hexes," Harry said. "That's a risk I am willing to take. Dumbledore once told me we should take risks for those we love."

"A noble attitude," Ron agreed. "And I think after the initial resentment one that she would be able to understand. But if she does have a problem. Well, she'll blame you, you know."

"What?" Harry blinked. That thought would have never occurred to him. How would she blame it on him? He avoided the stuff like the plague. He didn't even like being around her after she used it. He tried not to chastise her for using it. But she knew his opinion on it. He'd made it quite clear more than once.

"Mum spoiled her. Ginny always looks for a way out. And almost always finds it. It's never her fault. And you'll be her first target. And mum will believe her. And Dad does what he's told. I trust you. But is it worth that fight?" Ron asked.

"I think so. I'll let you know," Harry said.

"Okay," Ron said, checking his watch. "Well, I told Hermione I'd be in when she got home and she usually leaves the ministry about now."

"Thanks for the drinks," Harry said and they both stood.

"Yeah. Next time let's try to talk more about quidditch and leer at women rather than be serious," Ron teased.

"No promises," Harry said as a silvery otter ran toward them in the alley. It hopped on Ron and curled around his neck. He tilted his head to the side and then nodded.

"Actually, Hermione got home early and is inviting you over for dinner," Ron said. "And you're not allowed to decline because she knows you have nothing quidditch related on your schedule, that Ginny is in Iceland for a match, and that she hasn't seen you in weeks!"

"You know, that sounds lovely," Harry said and followed Ron to the public floo at the leaky cauldron.

He didn't bring up his concerns about Ginny with Hermione. In fact, he barely talked about himself for the rest of the evening. Hermione was working on some type of improvements for the floo network and, honestly, Harry found it quite fascinating. So he made her talk about that all night. He could tell she thought he was humouring her, but as he grew older he found himself more interested in practical magic. It was different than just seeing it at school. He was fascinated with how it actually interacted in the real world.

At the end of the night, Harry returned to Ballycastle via their floo. He stopped into his flat before realizing he didn't really want to be there at the moment. He had one message from Titus saying they needed to talk as soon as possible. But they had a four-day break from team activities before an international friendly in Germany later in the week, and he figured any talking to the captain could wait until the next day. Instead, he just went to bed.

His usual morning routine went off without a hitch the next morning. He started the morning off with a short jog through Ballycastle. The weather was at least mildly cooperative and he enjoyed it. On his way back to his flat he grabbed a coffee and the morning paper.

Once he returned home he turned on the wireless and listened to one of the daily sport shows in Ballycastle while he read the paper and ate a breakfast of eggs and toast. The Harpies had won their exhibition the afternoon before against one of the Icelandic teams, so he figured Ginny would be in a good mood.

She tended to take losses more personally than he did and would often spend the next couple of days after the match complaining about everything that went wrong and sulking. For her sake, and his, he hoped she never wound up on a losing team.

But the thought of her being happy made him happy. He finished the paper, there wasn't any news of note on that January morning, before showering and dressing to face the day. But he didn't have anything he wanted to do. He thought about the message the night before from Titus but still figured it could wait until later. Instead he figured his best course of action for the day would be to floo over to see Ginny. Perhaps she'd want to spend the day together.

He stepped into his fire and out of hers. Her apartment showed signs of life. There was clothing thrown over the furniture and dishes in the sink. Harry peered at it all for a moment, remembering that she'd cleaned before the trip to Iceland and wondering how she managed to make such a mess in such little time back. He spotted a half-filled bottle of pinkish purple dust on the counter and his teeth clenched together. But, for now, he chose to ignore it. He wanted to have a good day, an argument free day, a fun day.

"Gin?" he called, looking through her apartment, wondering if perhaps she had stepped out for a minute or two. It was around the time she'd typically get breakfast. He knew he should have floo'd her before coming over. He debated summoning a patronus with a message for her but decided to check her bedroom instead.

He pushed the door open and stepped in. He saw it first but didn't put together what it really meant until he smelled it. Something about the smell is what triggered it all for him. Before his eyes made sense of what he saw.

Ginny was there, laying on her bed, a glossy look in her eyes. She was naked save for trails of a familiar silvery pink and purple powder across specific parts of her body, quite a bit of it concentrated around her lips and nose.

"Mmm, back for more?" she said, slurring her words as she spoke, stretching her legs and letting her eyes side to him, no recognition showing in them. No words came to Harry as he stood in the doorway. His mind already looking for excuses, for anything to latch on to that wasn't the obvious, for any reason for him to stay. She had to have planned it, it had to be some sort of odd treat for him. Something that he didn't understand.

"What was that?" a man asked from the open bathroom door. "You're insatiable."

"Parker," Harry said. His former teammate, the late-twenties seeker for Wigtown, stood naked in the bathroom. He had the good sense to summon a towel to him.

"Harry," James Parker responded with a sheepish smirk that reminded Harry of a child caught sneaking biscuits before dinner.

"What. The. Fuck," Harry said.

"I think I'll be going," Parker said. He took two steps toward the door and then froze. His expression quickly turning to horror.

"What. The. Fuck," Harry said again. Ginny seemed to finally realize that something was wrong. She sat up on the bed and looked between them with very little recognition in her eyes. She licked some of the dust from her lips and stretched out.

"Jason?" she asked.

"Uh. No. It's Harry," Parker said, fighting against the body bind.

"Harry?" Ginny blinked.

"Yes," Parker said, still struggling against the magic that started to compress against his body.

"Uh-oh," Ginny giggled. "He'll be mad."

"Yes," Harry said. His eyes flashing to Ginny on her bed. "What the fuck, Ginny?"

"Oh, you know," she giggled again.

"This isn't a laughing matter," Harry started.

"She's too fucked up to answer you," Parker said. Harry twitched and his former teammate crashed into a wall. The opposing seeker's scream shocked him out of his stupor and he let the body bind fail. Parker pulled himself to his feet.

"Shut up," Harry said.

"What the hell, man," Parker scoffed.

"You don't get to talk. Not when you're shagging my girlfriend," Harry said. He could feel the magic swelling in him, power that he hadn't tried to wield violently since Voldemort screaming for an outlet. He knew he could destroy Parker if he wanted to. And he wanted to.

"Oh please," Parker laughed. "Half the league knows that you just have to ride the pixie for a chance of riding The Pixie. I barely even had to try."

"Shut. Up," Harry said.

"The posturing is hot," Ginny said from the bed, her hand trailing down her stomach.

"Shut up." Harry said, this time the vitriol directed at her. He could feel the power swelling up inside him. He could see flashes of it pulsing around him, red and orange flares shooting off him.

"Oh come on. What are you going to do?" Parker laughed. Harry turned to him. His magic reached out and grabbed the man by the throat. Parker's eyes went wide as his throat constricted.

He was going to kill him. It was that easy. He'd taken enough of the older man's snide comments from when they were teammates. He wasn't going to take more of them now. He was just going to end it. All of it.

His eyes focused on Parker. The man was choking against the magic suffocating him. His eyes were glazing over. For a moment Harry wanted to increase the pressure and end the man sooner. But the panic in Parker's face caught him off guard and he let the magic fall. The man fell to the ground, choking and gagging on the air that rushed into his lungs.

Harry apparated away with a loud crack. He knew he shouldn't have had the power to get himself straight back to Ballycastle. But it didn't surprise him when he appeared outside of his apartment. A few muggles walking down the street jumped out of the way, staring at him with confused expressions. Harry ignored them and stalked away.

He went to a bar nearby. He knew the owner and the bartender and threw himself into one of the chairs at the bar. The bartender, usually an amiable bloke, saw him and came over to talk. But after seeing his expression, he brought over a drink and made himself scarce.

Harry sat and drank, unsure of what else to do. He moved down to the corner of the bar when more patrons came in for the lunch rush. Some tried to talk to him but he ignored them and the bartender made sure they didn't bother him much more than that.

It wasn't until after lunch that someone sat next to him. Something that the bartender hadn't allowed up until that point. Harry took a sip of his beer. It was only his second one on the afternoon. He was still annoyingly sober but he didn't think being drunk would improve his mood.

"Did you know?" he asked.

"I found out last night," Titus Button said. He flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink for himself and another for Harry. Harry slid his warm beer away and started on the cooler one once it appeared.

"How?" Harry asked.

"I went out with Jason Williams last night. He ran his mouth while he was drunk," Titus said.

"And you believed him?" Harry asked.

"Well, Jason is always a bit of a braggart. At first I thought he was just being a prick and told him not to joke about someone involved with a friend of mine. He insisted he wasn't joking. I argued with him for a bit until it became pretty clear that he wasn't. I called him a cunt and left," Titus said.

"I take it that was your urgent message?" Harry asked.

"It was," Titus said. "When did you find out?"

"This morning. Thought I'd stop in to surprise her on her return from Iceland. She was dusted out of her mind in bed with James Parker in the bathroom," Harry said.

"Ouch," Titus said.

"Yep," Harry nodded, taking a generous swig of his beer.

"Did you kill them?" Titus asked, no trace of a joke in his tone. Harry took another generous swig of beer.

"No," he said. "Parker might miss a couple of games with a back injury though. I tossed him into a wall pretty hard. I didn't mean to."

"Of course," Titus laughed.

"What?" Harry glared at him.

"Sometimes I forget you're Harry Potter and think magically tossing a grown man into a wall is something we can all do on a whim," Titus said.

"Well if you focused more on magic than beating you could manage it," Harry said.

"Perhaps," Titus said. "Sounds like a lot of work though."

"How did you find me?" Harry asked.

"Intuition," Titus said.

"How many places did you check before coming here?" Harry asked.

"Twelve," Titus said. "Eight in Holyhead, Just the practice facilities and your flat here though. Stopped in here for a quick sandwich and lo and behold."

"I could use a sandwich," Harry said.

"Hey Gary, two clubs," Titus said.

"Right away," the bartender said.

"What are you going to do?" Titus asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "She needs help."

"You're unbelievable," Titus laughed.

"She does. I spent yesterday talking to Ron about how I thought she was abusing the damn dust. And now I find her…" Harry didn't finish the sentence.

"You don't have to help her, Harry," Titus said.

"Don't I?" Harry said.

"No. You don't," Titus said.

"She needs it," Harry said.

"Yes. She does. But are you going to drop everything in your life get her the help she needs? When she won't even admit that she needs it," Titus said.

"I might," Harry admitted.

"Okay. That's noble," Titus said as Gary returned with the two sandwiches and a couple of plates of crisps. "But you should ask yourself one question."

"What's that?" Harry said.

"Would she do the same for you?" Titus asked. Harry picked up his sandwich and stared at it. He knew the answer to that question without much thought. But that wasn't where his mind went. The answer to that question wasn't relevant.

"That doesn't matter," Harry said. "I'm not Ginny."

"No. You aren't. You've already forgiven her. For who knows how many indiscretions. And she…has she even tried to contact you? I'm sure she could," Titus said. He was right, Ginny's patronus could find him easily enough.

"She needs time to sober up," Harry said.

"Sure," Titus said, eating his own sandwich.

"You're only doing this because you don't want to lose your seeker," Harry said. He glared at Titus. The beater put his food down and looked back, hurt evident on his face.

"You not playing quidditch would be a loss for the Bats and for English quidditch and a disservice to yourself. But if you think that the only reason I'm here is to convince you to keep playing…" Titus said. He put his sandwich down and looked toward the bartender.

"Why are you here then?" Harry asked.

"Because my best friend needs me to be," Titus said. Harry paused. Then looked over at Titus for a few moments. Then down at Gary the bartender.

"Hey Gary," he said. "Another round."


	3. Goat

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

Goat

May 20, 2002

"Mister Potter, how does it feel to be the first team in twenty years to win back to back league titles?" Robert Graves, one of the leading Quidditch reporters in Ireland, asked over the din of reporters standing in the bowels of the Bats stadium.

"Pretty damn good," Harry laughed as he walked to the podium, embracing Lewis Barker momentarily on his way out. "But you probably can't put that in the paper can you."

"I think we could get away with it," Graves responded. "We'd just blame you and say it was a direct quote."

"Last year felt a little like a fluke," Harry continued, sparing a brief smile for Graves. "It took a miracle run at the end of the season to pull close enough to the Harpies to take it in the final match. This year we had some hiccups early on but pulled together and expected to win every step of the way. I'm glad our effort paid off."

"With Quigley's pending retirement, and both Stretton and Green drawing interest from multiple clubs do you think you'll have a shot at three in a row?" another reporter asked. Harry didn't recognize him but Championship press conferences often drew the most varied crowds.

"We're going to focus on the final two matches in the European cup before we worry about next season. I do have full confidence that Trent and Eva are ready to fill in if needed," Harry said. "But, right now, the Lacanau Lightning are the only real Quidditch thought on my mind."

"Do you really think the Bats have a chance against the Vultures with the way Krum and that chaser line has played all season?" a reporter with a distinctly Slavic accent asked from the back of the room.

"I'm going to worry about the Lighting before I worry about the Vultures," Harry responded. "Just as I'm sure the Vultures are worrying far more about the Harriers than they are the Bats."

"But do you think you can go toe-to-toe with Krum?" the same man asked. "Many are saying he's the best of all time."

"We've competed once before and I came out on top," Harry said with a practiced smirk. He was ready to be misquoted and jeered in the press for it. But he was too happy after beating Wigtown to care. Even Parker's post game comments about how he flew like a pixie weren't bothering him yet.

"Do you really think the Triwizard Tournament has any bearing on Quidditch?" another reporter asked.

"Yes," Harry said with as much seriousness as he could fake. "I think wandering aimlessly through a hedge maze is one of the most overlooked training platforms for a Quidditch player."

"Krum seems to think the Vultures are the better team," another reporter said.

"Why are we talking so much about Krum?" Harry asked the reporters. "Last I checked we weren't even favoured against the Lightning. I'm pretty sure just because you all have a hard-on for Krum and I doesn't mean it'll happen."

"So you don't think you can win?" another reporter asked. Harry frowned, knowing he walked right into that one.

"Of course I think we can win. Unlike you all I don't want to get ahead of myself and act like a match already happened. The Lightning will be one of the toughest teams we face all year and I'm not about to look past them. Now are there any questions about the Bats? I do have better places to be you know?"

"Championship Party?" Graves asked.

"Only a small thing tonight. As I said we're focusing on our next match. We'll take tonight to celebrate, then I believe tomorrow off before prep works for the trip to France next week," Harry said.

"Any commentary on Ginny Weasley's interest in transferring to the Lightning?" a French reporter asked.

"No. I'm sure she knows what's best for her career. If that's the route she wants to go more power to her," Harry said.

"The rumours are that after her second suspension the Harpies aren't very interested in retraining her services," another reporter said.

"Given that I am not involved in any way with the Harpy organization I do not see how I would be able to provide a comment on that," Harry said.

"Some say you're to blame for her drug problem," another reporter said. "In fact her mother had a piece about it in the Daily Prophet after your last match against Holyhead."

"That same paper blamed me for the return of Lord Voldemort. I'm surprised it's even considered a paper of record any longer," Harry said. There was a nervous titter in the room when he said Voldemort but he figured it best not to comment on it.

"Do you dispute that you're the cause of her problem?" another reporter asked.

"She says she has no problem. I've been told by most of the magical community that pixie dust isn't a very big deal. If the tabloids are true she adores it then I hope she gets whatever help she needs," Harry said.

"You don't think it's a big deal? So, you don't think she should have been suspended?" someone asked from the crowd.

"Smarter people than me have created the league's substance abuse policy. If they think a positive test is worth a suspension then I'd have to defer to their expertise," Harry said.

"You never did give your version of the events," Graves said. Harry raised his brows at the man. Graves hadn't ever been one to ask a question that wasn't related to quidditch. "Surely you'd like for your name to be removed from the mud as it were."

"I'm used to my name being dragged through the mud. Hell, I believe the Minister has a framed shot of Undesirable Number One above his desk as a reminder. As for my version of the events. I did give it. Just not publicly," Harry said.

"You gave your version?" One of the reporters asked, obviously not registering Harry's last aside.

"Yes. Shortly after Ginny's first accusations I met with Barker and Titus and told them what happened. After the accusations continued I provided evidence to my version of events and consented to drug tests after every match," Harry said.

"Why have we never heard this before?" Graves asked.

"Because the Bats honoured my request to not make it public," Harry said.

"Gee, thanks Harry," Titus said as he walked out to the podium as well.

"What did I do now?" Harry asked.

"Now my entire time will be allotted to them badgering me about my opinion on Ginny Weasley and trying to annoy me until I tell them what happened," Titus said.

"I doubt it. They have to have more important things to ask you about than my previous relationships," Harry said.

"Sure, like if you'd get into a new relationship," Titus said.

"You really think your entire press conference is going to be about me? Because I find that to be very amusing," Harry said.

"I mean at least twenty percent of my press time is devoted to you on a given day," Titus said.

"Will you at least give us your opinion on Harry's story?" a reporter asked Titus as he nudged Harry away from the podium. Titus looked at Harry and Harry just responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Harry's a saint. If you want answers try to get Ginny to talk about it under oath," Titus said.

"Any comment Mister Potter?" the same reporter asked.

"I think I'd rather be knighted than canonized," Harry said.

"I'm not calling you sir," Titus quipped. "Now shoo it's my turn to play dancing pony. And don't be late for the party."

"Good luck," Harry teased. He turned to leave with a quick glance at his watch. He was supposed to talk for fifteen more minutes before Titus saved him. He must have thought he was more annoyed at the Ginny questions than he was. But after clinching the league title he didn't care about Ginny.

He returned to the team locker room after. Trent Alexander, their reservist beater, nodded to him as he left.

"See you at the party, Harry," he said.

"You too," Harry responded. He stepped over to his locker and started to change out of the Bats clothing he wore under his uniform and started to dress in his everyday wear. Other teammates filtered in, both Stretton and Green said a few words before heading out as he changed. He pulled his shirt over his head and saw the green eyes of Eva Larson once his vision returned.

"Bringing a date to the party?" the young chaser asked. Harry chuckled as she batted her eyes at him.

"No," Harry said. "You?"

"Not yet," she said.

"Leaving it a bit to the last minute, don't you think?" Harry asked.

"Uh-huh," she said.

"You do know Finbar is married, right?" Harry said. Eva made a face at him.

"You take the fun all out of it," she said.

"See you at the party, Eva," he said, standing and heading over to the floo. The chaser was pretty, young, and amused him. But he wasn't going to allow it to be anything more than a teammate and a friend. Part of him didn't want to do anything that could upset team chemistry. But another part of him struggled with dating after Ginny. And he wasn't sure it was fair to subject Eva to that. Plus, she was even younger than Ginny and that was a frightening thought.

He took the floo to London, wondering why on earth Titus had decided the party should be there rather than in Ballycastle. He'd only distributed the address after the match that day, claiming it was the perfect venue so Harry hadn't even had time to scout it out. He did know that the captain had pulled out all of the stops and arranged for every member of the Bats organization to be there. And that included hotel rooms for many of the day-to-day employees and their families. Harry suspected the venue would be pretty normal and the bigger surprise would be the free vacation for the staff.

He stepped out of 12 Grimmauld Place, idly wondering why he chose that destination rather than his flat in London, and peered around the streets. He checked his watch and knew Titus likely wasn't even out of his press conference yet. And he still had a few hours to kill before the party.

He peered in the general direction of the Leaky Cauldron and hesitated for a moment. But his distaste for being idle won out and he started walking toward Diagon Alley. He knew he'd get some jeering if he spent too much time in Magical London. But, avoiding people who thought he was the devil for what he did to Ginny wasn't that high on his priority list.

Ginny had, as Ron said, blamed him for everything. It wasn't surprising. She'd thrown accusations at him from emotional abuse to disinterest in her, to him being impossible to be around. She never accused him of infidelity or being physical abusive, but everything else seemed fair game. It probably didn't help that twelve days after he'd found her and James Parker she'd tested positive for Pixie Dust and earned a four game suspension from league play.

It seemed like a bad time for him to go public and refute her claims by saying she was cheating on him. It felt a little too much like being petty, or beating a dead horse. So, he'd cancelled the interview with Robert Graves where he intended to give his side of the story, and went silent on the subject.

That hadn't stopped Ginny. She spent her suspension talking about his behaviour to every rag that would listen. And there were many. His name and stories about him appeared in every publication in the country. And even the sports talk shows on the radio questioned if his behaviour warranted suspension.

He'd had his defenders. Graves, for one, kept his writing mostly focused on quidditch, but when he was asked he was one of the few to say he thought Ginny was looking for a scapegoat to excuse her own actions. But he also admitted that he only knew Harry professionally, and couldn't speak to his personal life.

But then, right before he almost broke, he picked up a special issue of the Quibbler with his face on it. The cover looked almost identical to the one where he'd done the interview with Rita Skeeter years ago, except his picture was older and he wore a Bats uniform in it.

He raised his brows when he saw the title on the issue, _Harry Potter_ by Rita Skeeter. His blood boiled. He couldn't believe Luna of all people would allow that. But Luna had always been Ginny's friend. He ripped open the magazine and found the article in question, feeling his anger rise as his eyes read the words.

And then, he saw the impossible.

Rita Skeeter defended him. And she defended him expertly. She was the only one who got quotes from his teammates, who focused on the charity work he did in Ballycastle, who talked openly of the effects of Pixie Dust on relationships. Who brought up Ginny's relationships since him. And the only one who dared to imply that her outings with Parker sure seemed quick after the breakup. She had information in her defence that could have only come from two sources. Hermione Granger and Titus Button.

At first he thought it odd that neither of them had approached him about it. But the more he read it the more he was glad they didn't. He would have encouraged them to let it drop. But they hadn't and the article was incredible.

It came too late to sway many people. But some of them at least believed he wasn't an utter piece of shit, and Harry figured that was a win. And then when, a year later, Ginny was suspended once again, people found it more difficult to blame the man who hadn't been in her life. Eventually he was only the subject of mean-spirited chants in Holyhead rather than every stadium outside of Ballycastle. And now, it almost never came up.

He did make sure to give Rita a couple of legitimate quotes when she asked. And appeared at an event she hosted as a thank you. She didn't even try to be her smarmy self with him, outside of a single comment thanking him for her increased income. And she didn't misquote him at all when she used his comments.

He smiled at the memory as he heard the staccato tapping of quick heeled footsteps behind him.

"Harry Potter?" a voice called. He was close enough to the Leaky Cauldron that it shouldn't have surprised him to be recognized. He was caught off guard nonetheless.

"Yes?" he asked, turning around to face the speaker. And then he saw her. She was still shorter than him despite the heels, and her long blonde hair was pulled back into a loose braid. She held a small black case and had a bag thrown over her shoulder.

"Gabrielle Delacour?" He blinked in surprise.

"Yes," she said, stepping up to him. "Congratulations on the victory today. I am surprised you are in London. They said you stayed in Ireland often now."

"Thanks. The team party is here tonight so I'm here tonight. What brings you to London?" Harry asked. "I didn't think the French liked our fine capital."

"It does reek," Gabrielle made a face, but she couldn't hold it for longer than a few seconds before she broke and started giggling.

"You get used to that," Harry teased.

"We are apartment shopping," Gabrielle said.

"We?" Harry asked.

"Hello Harry," Apolline said. She stood a few feet behind her daughter, her expression distinctly icy. Icy enough that he was instantly reminded of their relationship with the Weasley family.

"Hey Apolline," he said. "Good to see you again. I don't think I've seen you since the party."

"You too," she said, although Harry got the feeling she wasn't quite sure if it was good or not. So he defaulted to his strategy for dealing with Titus Button. Ignore it and hope it goes away.

"So, apartments?" he asked.

"Gabrielle got a job with the London Symphony Orchestra. She has been commuting from Bill and Fleur's home but with Victorie and another on the way," Apolline shrugged her shoulders as if that was enough of an explanation.

"I get it. What are you finding?" he asked.

"That rent is expensive," Gabrielle frowned. She was dressed formally, a white blouse and black skirt with short heels. "Even small studios are about double what I was hoping they would be."

"Yeah, rent can be a little crazy in London," Harry said. "There's a couple of spots just off the alley that aren't bad. I looked at them after Hogwarts."

"They are not very good either, though," Gabrielle frowned. "That's where we came from. We were about to just take a break and grab a late lunch. Would you like to join us?"

"Gabrielle!" Her mother scolded her. "I am sure Mister Potter is very busy."

"Oh sorry," Gabrielle frowned.

"I am actually free until later this evening when I have to go to a team event. I'd be more than willing to treat some friends to lunch," Harry said.

"You do not have to do that," Gabrielle frowned.

"Nonsense, I insist now," Harry smiled brightly. Gabrielle stared at him, silently. "Where were you planning on going?"

"We did not have a place in mind," Apolline said.

"Any preferences?" Harry asked.

"I believe Elle was hoping to get some curry," Apolline said. Harry couldn't tell if she seemed more annoyed by her daughter's choice of lunch or by Harry's presence.

"I know a place just a few streets away," Harry said.

"I do not want you to feel like we are forcing you," Gabrielle said.

"I was heading to grab a bite to eat anyway," Harry assured her. "And hadn't made up my mind. A little Tandoori Chicken sounds fine for me. And some pleasant company to catch up with as well."

"Yes, and you can refute all of the nonsense Mrs. Weasley says about you so mother will stop glaring at you like some type of hobgoblin," Gabrielle said.

"Gabrielle!" Apolline Delacour said, followed by a long string of French that Harry didn't even attempt to decipher.

"And here I thought I was imagining that," Harry said. "I assume the Weasley's are not kind to me."

"No. They are not. Last year they were positively horrible. I faked being ill and wanting to rest before our Christmas performance and returned to Fleur's home," Gabrielle said.

"Clever," Harry laughed.

"Now you must assure maman that you are not a drug addict and then she will stop acting like she does not say mean things about Ginny behind her back," Gabrielle said.

"I am not a drug addict," Harry said. "Ginny is. And I do hope she gets the help she needs."

"You have never admitted that in public," Apolline said, pointedly.

"I have not," Harry said. "But we are not in public now, are we? I'm not going to talk about what happened. But I did not abuse her. And my decision to end my relationship with her was motivated by her decision to not end her drug use and the repercussions that had on her life."

"Told you she was snorting something in the bathroom," Gabrielle said, smugly.

"It is still rude to say," Apolline said.

"Can I ask one thing?" Harry said. The two French women glanced at each other as they were mere steps away from the restaurant.

"What is that?" Apolline asked.

"Who brings it up the most?" he asked.

"Molly and Ginny. Ginny has stopped attending most family functions though. And when she is gone Molly does not mention it that often," Apolline said.

"Because if Ginny is not around then Hermione yells at her," Gabrielle said.

"Now that's something I would pay to see," Harry responded as he held the door for the women to enter.

The lunch was fairly uneventful. Harry spent most of the time asking Gabrielle questions about how she was enjoying her life in an orchestra. It took a little bit of prying but she started talking rather openly about her job, her music, and her friends. Judging from Apolline's curious expression, it was far more than she'd managed to get out of her daughter.

"Well, thank you for lunch, Mister Potter," Apolline said after Harry paid the tab. "But we must get back to looking for Gabrielle's new accommodations."

"I told you this would be easier if I would just move in with some of the other girls. They are willing to add on another roommate," Gabrielle said. "And I do not want you and father paying my rent."

"I think you would find muggle living too trying. If any of your school friends were living in London perhaps," Apolline said. "But we do want to make sure you are safe."

"I will be fine," Gabrielle pouted. "And I can at least afford that."

"If I can be impertinent. I think I might have a solution," Harry said.

"What's that?" Apolline asked.

"I have a flat over in the West End that I think I've used maybe three times in the last two years. I'd be more than willing to sublet it out to a friend," Harry said.

"That is far too generous," Apolline said.

"I honestly never use it. I bought it when I was starting to renovate Grimmauld Place and figured I would be in London more. Then I gave up on the renovations, at least until I'm done with Quidditch. And since I'm pretty much only in Ireland now it sits empty. My elf, Kreacher, pops over to dust once a month but that's about it. Or at least claims he does. But that's about it," Harry said.

"Can we go see it?" Gabrielle asked brightly.

"I don't know," Apolline said.

"It's close by," Harry said.

"Fine," Apolline said. "Lead on."

It only took a few minutes to walk there. Harry pressed his wand to the door as he approached and the door flew open for him. He pressed it to the elevator button as well and took it to the top floor. He had the entire floor for his two bedroom two and a half bath flat. He'd insisted on installing muggle appliances and the entire thing had a chic modernist look to it. But the charms and wards were all there, allowing for shifting and expanding of the rooms if necessary and far less-important amusements like ensuring the balcony always had the best view of London.

"Wow," Gabrielle said as she pranced around.

"It is very beautiful," Apolline agreed, looking a little surprised. "Did you design it yourself?"

"Oh no," Harry laughed. "I paid to have someone do it."

"Gabrielle cannot afford this," Apolline said.

"I think it's exactly in her price range," Harry said. "Let her have it. I like doing nice things for my friends. There's an emergency return portkey with it if she's ever in trouble, and an Apparition point. The floo is private but can be linked to a few locations if need be. I'd be more than willing to give Bill and Fleur permanent access if that makes you feel better. There's a public floo in the lobby. And I made sure it's Death Eater proof so I think anything that could come after her would be stopped in its tracks."

"You are very cautious," Apolline said.

"The shocking thing is that making it reporter proof was almost more difficult than Death Eater proof," Harry said.

"That does not surprise me," Apolline said with a chuckle. "I do not think we should let her have it. But Gabrielle was always far less spoiled than Fleur. Perhaps she deserves a win."

"Perfect, well, I can key her wand to all of the doors and enchantments and she can move herself in whenever. The master bedroom is furnished but you can just move anything to the second one or vanish the contents of the master and she can move in there. The master bath is way nicer," Harry said.

"Not so fast," Apolline laughed. "We will have to discuss it with Louis before I agree to anything. However, if you were willing to set up a connection with Shell Cottage I would appreciate it."

"Consider it done," Harry smiled.

"This place is amazing," Gabrielle said, coming out of one of the bedrooms. "Why do you not live here?"

"I like Ireland," Harry shrugged. In truth, he knew Ginny spent most of her free time in London and that made the city far less appealing to him.

"How much would you like?" Gabrielle asked. He told her. Her eyes went wide and she immediately turned to her mother. "We will take it."

"Gabrielle we need to talk to your father first," Apolline said.

"No we do not," Gabrielle frowned. "I can afford it myself. And I am an adult."

"Gabrielle," her mother sighed.

"Please?" Gabrielle pouted. Harry looked way from her once he registered that he thought her pout was rather cute. And not in an innocent sort of way. He knew he wouldn't have been able to resist had it been directed his way.

"Fine," her mother sighed. Gabrielle pounced and hugged her and then hugged Harry as well for good measure.

"Woah," he said, shifting away from her after a few moments.

"What is it?" she asked, looking confused.

"Ginny's perfu….nothing. It's nothing. Here, let me show you everything and how to switch to the muggle setting as well," Harry said, wondering what the odds were that Gabrielle and Ginny both had a preference for the same flowery perfume.

"There is a muggle setting?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yes, in case you need to entertain and not be utterly magical. Adds in more common muggle appliances and household items as well as freezing paintings and the like," Harry explained as he started to show the two of them around the apartment. Apolline made him go over every detail of the apartment with her, and look in every room. And then insisted they agree on a specific move in date and have documentation drawn up.

They agreed on the first of the month and Harry agreed to have the contract sent to her at Shell Cottage before that. The whole discussion took perhaps another hour before Gabrielle hugged him again and they were on their way.

He left his apartment and traveled straight to the party. He was early at the hotel where Titus told them to meet but Titus was already there and he wasn't surprised to find that some of the team staff were filtering in early as well.

"I hope they asked you about more than Ginny at the press conference?" Harry asked.

"Eventually," Titus said. "I don't mind though."

"Sure you don't," Harry said.

"I don't," Titus laughed. "The more asinine and annoying they are the more annoyed you are and I like Harry with a chip on his shoulder."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, fighting the urge to be annoyed by that statement.

"Because angry Harry doesn't lose," Titus said.

"I don't think that's true," Harry replied.

"Well maybe in the short term it isn't. But, I mean hell, look at last year. We were fifteen points out with two months to play. Sure it took a little bit of luck and Ginny being Ginny, but the more they talked about how awful you were and how she was a better player anyway and you were a disgrace to the league, the more we won," Titus said. "And sure, it was lucky having Holyhead to close out the year. But they had no idea what hit them when you took over the game."

"I never thought of it that way," Harry said.

"I know. But the more they back you into a corner the more likely you are to win. It's just what you do. If they want to keep saying you have no chance. Then I feel sorry for the Lightning and Vultures," Titus said.

"If only it were that easy," Harry laughed. Titus just smirked at him and smacked him on the back.

"Maybe it is," Titus said. "Either way, let's go and enjoy ourselves."


	4. Adagio

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Adagio

October 29-31, 2004

The music quieted for a moment as the woodwinds gave way to the strings before building to the final crescendo. A surprising contingent of the Ballycastle Bats sat in the eighth row of the London Theatre, watching the orchestra perform. Harry let his eyes scan over the woodwinds, his eyes resting on a young brunette about halfway down the row as she took a deep breath and started to play once more.

He was never quite sure what you were supposed to look at during an orchestral concert. His eyes flashed around each of the performers, half imagining a golden snitch flying between them before they shifted down the row. When he'd offered tickets to the team members he hadn't really expected any of them to take him up on the offer. But a fair number had.

Lewis Barker and his wife, Caroline, sat to his left. Lewis looked like his mind was elsewhere. Probably on Falmouth and how big the point swing would be if they were to win the following week. Caroline, a plump, plain-looking woman in her forties, looked to be enjoying herself. Harry had very little experience with her, just the occasional team party or event. But she was smiling slightly as she leaned against Barker's arm.

To his left sat Titus Button and his on-again-off-again girlfriend-slash-friend-with-benefits Sophie Sinclair. Sinclair was a petite brunette who also happened to be the seeker for the Montreal Melodies and the Canadian National Team. She had ten days off in her schedule and had decided to stop in and see Titus while he had a few days off as well.

There had been some rumours in the off season that she was sick of playing against what was widely considered inferior competition in the North American leagues and thinking of transferring when her contract was up in Montreal. A few of the experts pegged Ballycastle as a possible landing spot for her because of her relationship with Titus.

Of course, that just led to arguments of whether or not she or Harry could play chaser on a full-time basis. Harry hadn't commented on any of the rumours but part of him thought it would be an interesting challenge. The move, however, did not seem to be something that Barker or the Bats would do. And they'd spent a while to build the core they had now. The same core that had gone on to win multiple league and European titles.

Trent Alexander sat next to them, out with his younger sister who happened to be an aspiring musician as well. Trent looked to be half asleep but his sister seemed engrossed in the show. He'd done it as a birthday outing for her. Harry Potter's autograph was also involved.

Past them Eva Larson sat with her current beau: a young woman whose name Harry hadn't caught. They were holding hands and whispering to each other every few moments as the symphony continued.

Harry turned his attention back to the music. A quick glance at his watch indicated the show was about to finish. Harry watched as the conductor swung his arms around as the music grew to a peak, and then, with an artful flourish, it was over.

Harry stood with the rest of the crowd and applauded. The ovation went on for a couple of minutes before people started to file out of the theatre.

"So, which one is she?" Sophie Sinclair said from a few seats to his right as she struggled to both affix her coat and clap at the same time. He suspected she would have used magic if they weren't in a muggle theatre. Titus laughed as he looked over at her and helped her into her jacket.

"Brunette, sixth from the right among the flutists," Titus said.

"There is no way flutist is a word," Sophie responded.

"Sure there is. Harry told me there was," Titus said.

"And Harry would never lie to you to make you look like an idiot," Sophie said.

"I verified it with independent sources after," Titus responded.

"And who was that?" Sophie asked.

"Gabrielle," Titus answered.

"And there's no way she was in on it too?" Sophie asked.

"Well I hope not. Besides I think they should focus on shagging rather than tormenting Titus," Titus said.

"She's just a friend," Harry groaned.

"Please don't start talking in the third person," Sophie said as the crowd started to work their way out of the theatre. Lewis and Caroline thanked him for the tickets and wished everyone a good night before they slipped away from the other players. Harry followed Titus out of the theatre.

"And you need to get over that just a friend bit," Titus said.

"A family friend I've known since she was like ten. She's only twenty," Harry said.

"And how old do you think you are?" Sophie laughed, "Fifty-six?"

"Harry is twenty-four going on eighty," Titus corrected.

"He's starting to look his age too," Eva commented as they marched like cattle toward the exits.

"We should just Apparate to the lobby," Titus sighed.

"The ministry would love that," Harry said, hoping to steer the conversation in any direction that wasn't whether or not he should sleep with Gabrielle Delacour.

"Please, you're here. Just say it was an emergency and then shoo them on their way," Trent said.

"I don't think it would work that way," Harry said.

"He's right," Eva sighed. "Harry would get off and we'd all spend the night locked up and be in the tabloids for terrorising muggles."

"I'm now more interested in trying," Harry said.

"Back to more important matters. He won't make a move because he's known her for a decade?" Sophie asked.

"He hasn't really known her for a decade," Titus said.

"Oh?" Sophie asked as she ducked around three very slow-moving seniors. Harry followed her but Titus didn't make it through the closing gap.

"I met her ten years ago during the Triwizard tournament," Harry affirmed. "Her sister, Fleur, was one of the other contestants. One of the tasks involved saving hostages. I was dumb enough to think they were actually in danger and saved her when Fleur didn't show up."

"I see," Sophie said. "She so has a crush on you for that."

"I doubt it," Harry said. "She doesn't remember it. She remembers being told what the task was and then being enchanted to sleep and then waking up with her sister and a towel wrapped around her feeling like she slept far too long. I'm not even sure it registered to her that she was even in the lake."

"That's boring," Sophie said.

"Harry is boring," Titus agreed as he caught up. They found a small corner of the lobby and congregated there. Trent and his sister said their goodbyes as they left for dinner before he would return her to Hogwarts. Eva and her girlfriend loitered with them which Harry appreciated as it made him feel far less like a third wheel.

"Thanks," Harry said, rolling his eyes at his friend's comment.

"I heard your answer. He also didn't see her for what, five years after the tournament? And even that was just for a couple of days," Titus said.

"I don't see how that matters," Harry shrugged.

"And then another three years after that before he started renting his flat to her," Titus said.

"And it was probably six months after that that they started ever hanging out or talking," Eva said.

"So, he's known her for a year or so," Sophie said, doing the math in her head.

"Essentially," Titus said.

"And he's attracted to her?" Sophie asked.

"I mean she's pretty," Titus shrugged. "Not model gorgeous or anything. A little on the short side and a little soft looking. But she has a killer smile and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. I'd think he'd be attracted to her."

"I see," Sophie looked at him. She then raised her brows and asked. "You're not like, afraid to hop back in the saddle or anything are you? Not worried you'll be terrible?"

"No," Harry said.

"He's not terrible," Eva said, a flush rising to her cheeks as it slipped out. Both her girlfriend and Titus stared at her.

"Thanks Eva," Harry sighed, wondering if he should get her out of this mess or if she would.

"What?" Eva glared at Titus who was still staring at her, mouth agape. "We were drunk and I conned him into it."

"But you," Titus said, eyes shifting over to Eva's girlfriend.

"Yes. I do. And I always thought I did. But my mother was pressing me to get a boyfriend and Harry was single and really a nice guy and I figured I could suck it up and just live with it," Eva frowned as the words failed her.

"And then you got sick after," Harry said.

"I think it was all mental. Just disgusted with myself, not you," Eva said.

"Well, at least we know he's had sex since Ginny," Sophie said. "Even if he did disgust the girl."

"But no serious girlfriends since," Titus said.

"You know how it is," Harry responded. "Busy schedule, not a lot of free time. By the time the off season rolls around you just want to rest."

"Resting is more fun with others involved," Eva said.

"I agree," Sophie said. "Or I wouldn't have decided to spend my vacation with Titus."

"That does beg a far more important question I think," Harry said.

"What's that?" Sophie asked.

"Do we need to check you into the accidental magic ward at St. Mungo's?" Eva asked.

"What, why?" Sophie blinked.

"Because why else would someone willingly spend a week with Titus?" Gabrielle said as she walked up to the group. She wore a long-sleeved black dress with some black filigree around the bust and a pair of conservative black heels. Her makeup was tastefully done and her brown hair styled in waves. She held her flute case in front of her in both hands as she smiled brightly at them all.

"Hey Ellie," Harry said.

"Thanks for the tickets," Titus said.

"Thanks for coming," she beamed before her eyes shifted to the Canadian standing next to Titus. "You must be Sophie."

"I am," Sophie said, offering her hand. Gabrielle let one of hers drop from the flute case and shook it. "You were sublime."

"Thank you," Gabrielle said. "It was a good show."

"A wonderful one," Harry agreed.

"Very beautiful," Sophie agreed.

"Did Titus stay awake?" Gabrielle asked as she stood next to Harry.

"Yes," Titus scoffed. "Brunette?"

"I just wanted to try something new," she shrugged. She'd confessed to him at lunch once that her new chestnut-coloured hair was purely because she was sick of being compared to Fleur at every family thing. She hadn't voiced that she'd thought she could never compare to her sister. And Harry hadn't really known what to say other than state the truth, it looked good, if odd at first.

"It looks nice," Titus said.

"Thank you," Gabrielle responded.

"Now, I don't know what you had planned but did you want to join us for a night on the town?"

"Oh, I cannot," Gabrielle frowned. "We are throwing a Halloween party that I am planning on attending. I am sure you would all be welcome to come it is nearby. But it is a muggle party."

"We don't have costumes," Titus frowned.

"Well, Eva, Gabrielle, Helen and I are all witches and I'm pretty sure Harry is a wizard. I think the four of us will be able to come up with something for you if you can't manage it yourself," Sophie said.

"He'd look pretty good in a tutu," Harry commented.

"A bright pink one," Gabrielle agreed.

"I am not going to dignify that with a comment," Titus said.

"I think seeing what passes off as a British Halloween party would be very amusing," Sophie said.

"I guess that's a better option than dinner," Titus shrugged.

"And you'll join us?" Gabrielle asked, taking Harry's hand and gazing up at him with her impossibly wide blue eyes. He wondered if she'd realised he couldn't resist that look.

"Of course," Harry said.

"Yay," Gabrielle said.

"I think Helen and I will pass," Eva said. "We have an early morning tomorrow at her parents."

"Have a good night," Harry said as the two girls started to leave.

"We'll need somewhere to come up with costume ideas," Harry said.

"My flat, well, your flat, is close enough to walk to unless Titus can Apparate Sophie there," Gabrielle said.

"I don't remember where it was well enough to do that," Titus said.

"Let's walk then," Sophie said.

"Lead on," Harry said to Gabrielle, gesturing toward the exit. Gabrielle obliged him.

Twenty minutes later he found himself in her bedroom. He didn't really mean to be in her bedroom, it just sort of happened. Titus and Sophie had escaped to the second bedroom to focus on costume ideas and Gabrielle had decided on a quick shower.

Harry intended to stay in the kitchen. But he hadn't been in his flat since nearly the time she'd started living there and he was taking a minute to see how she'd changed it. The entire flat seemed lighter and obviously had a more lived in feel. She'd decorated the living room with a flower motif. The kitchen seemed the same as he'd left it. And he'd peered into the master bedroom to see what she'd done there.

The bed was a mass of purple and pink blankets and she'd put a vanity in the corner near the dresser. An odd looking plush black dog rested on the pillows. Its ears were too big and pointed, oddly reminiscent of an elf, and had a yellow band about halfway up. A yellow circle rested on its forehead between its red eyes with black pupils. There was a snowy framed landscape on the wall of what appeared to be the stables at the Delacour house all lit up for Christmas. A few photos of her friends from Beauxbatons lined her dresser.

"I hope you are not upset that I made some changes," she said from the door of the bathroom. Harry stiffened and wondered just what he was going to see when he turned to face her.

"Not at all," he said, turning to do just that. He found himself both disappointed and relieved that she was decent. She wore white shorts and a red tank top with a black sleeveless undershirt preventing any unwanted cleavage. She tugged on it so bits of it stuck out from underneath the tank top as well. She'd tied a red ribbon with white stripes around her head, the bow of it resting on top. She waved her wand to style her hair down to frame her face. She nodded at herself in the mirror.

"Good. I'd hoped it wouldn't prevent me from getting my deposit back," Gabrielle teased.

"No. But knowing that you let Titus and Sophie use a room unsupervised will," Harry said.

"Oh no," Gabrielle responded dryly. "I should go shoo them out."

"Probably," Harry said. She summoned a yellow belt with a black clasp on the front and a small bag on the back and affixed it around her waist. She then summoned a few red and white balls to her and affixed them to the belt.

Next she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into some short black socks and then some red and black trainers. She tied them before examining the entire thing in the mirror. She took a few steps toward him before slashing her wand at the plush dog on the bed. It hopped up and ran toward her, jumping from the bed and landing on her shoulder. She turned to look at him.

"Well?" she asked.

"Should I know what you are?" he answered.

"Probably not. It is from a muggle game I believe. The son of one of our clarinets said I looked like the character so I thought it would be a cute surprise for the party," Gabrielle said.

"How old is he?" Harry asked.

"Eleven, I think?" she responded with a shrug of her shoulders. "But now we must come up with something for you."

"There will be kids there?" Harry frowned.

"Some," Gabrielle said. "It is for friends and family."

"I see," Harry said.

"It will be fun," Gabrielle said. "But we need to find you something to wear."

"Can't I just throw on a bats jersey and say I'm a professional athlete?" Harry asked.

"Maybe if you had a Tottenham shirt. But that is lazy, even for you," Gabrielle said.

"Fine. How about some dress robes and then bandy about my wand and say I'm a wizard," Harry said.

"Well I guess that could work but it still feels a little bit lazy," Gabrielle frowned. She paused for a moment before tilting her head to the side. "How good do you look in your dress robes?"

"Hermione said 'damn' and implied she could be convinced of a weekend away from Ron," Harry said.

"After one holiday gathering almost anything could convince me of a weekend away from Ron. Even Titus," Gabrielle said.

"Ouch," Harry responded.

"And after such a lazy costume idea do you expect me to praise you?" Gabrielle asked.

"I'd hoped," Harry nodded.

"Put your dress robes on," Gabrielle scoffed. "Or we will be late."

"Are you going to let me change in peace?" Harry asked.

"Hadn't planned on it," Gabrielle said.

"Well then," Harry said. He decided to call her bluff and started to slowly unbutton his shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Harry took the hint and took out his wand, waving it around himself so his clothing transfigured into a pair of black dress robes. He added some suns and moons in an alternating pattern and then looked at her.

"I suppose that is muggle wizard enough," Gabrielle said.

"Great, let's go see what Titus and Sophie came up with," Harry said.

"I just hope they are not naked," Gabrielle sighed.

"Fifty-Fifty," Harry said.

"Well then you can go first," Gabrielle said, waving toward the door. Harry smiled and stepped into the kitchen. It was unoccupied at the moment. He debated yelling at his friends, thinking Gabrielle's excuse that they would be late would be enough. But before he opened his mouth the door opened.

Sophie floated out first, literally. She wore a short, strapless green dress that looked to be made of leaves and her hair was done up in a bun. She'd put some blonde into it, but only a couple of streaks. The most impressive thing though was the translucent wings beating rapidly from her back.

"Functioning wings?" Harry laughed. "A bit much, don't you think?"

"Yes, but where's the fun in fake ones?" Sophie asked.

"You have to teach me that spell," Gabrielle said, walking up behind her as she landed and examining them. Sophie twitched them away from her hands.

"Sure," Sophie said.

"How did you even learn that?" Harry asked.

"A couple of my friends and I came up with it in our last year of school. A bit of a side project. Involved a lot of angry fairies," she said. "Of course, speaking of angry fairies, hurry up Titus."

"I'm coming," he sighed and stepped from the bedroom. He wore a pointed green hat with a feather sticking out of it, a green tunic, green tights, brown boots and a brown belt, a sword was sheathed at his hip.

"Peter Pan?" Harry asked.

"I can't believe she's making me wear tights," Titus said.

"You'll get over it," Sophie said, waving Titus's complaints away as her attention turned to Gabrielle. "And what are you?"

"A character from a muggle game," Gabrielle said.

"I see," Sophie said.

"How did I not think of Wizard," Titus frowned, looking at Harry.

"Because I didn't give you a choice," Sophie said.

"Shall we?" Gabrielle asked.

"Let's go," Harry nodded.

They walked to the party. They were only stopped twice for people to gawk at Titus and Sophie. Harry and Gabrielle's costumes seemed to draw slightly less interest than the other two. When they arrived at the banquet hall Gabrielle spent a few minutes introducing them to everyone.

Harry stayed near her while she spent a few minutes talking to each person that came up to them. Quite a few of the males, Harry noticed, glared at him while Gabrielle was otherwise unoccupied. A couple of the kids insisted on playing with her stuffed dog. Gabrielle didn't appear to want to let it go but caved after a few minutes. He did notice she snuck a tracking spell onto it just in case.

"Important toy?" he asked.

"Noir and I go way back," Gabrielle said. She frowned slightly though and it dawned on Harry he shouldn't have called it a toy. But he couldn't think of a way to apologise for that for making it worse.

"Should I be jealous?" he asked. She raised her brows at him and he realised how flirty that sounded. He spat out the next thing that came into his mind. "I mean am I the date or the pet?"

"Which would you want to be?" she asked. She looked startled by his question and as he ran the words though his head once more he realised that he'd done nothing to make it sound less flirty.

"Both could have their advantages," Harry said, figuring being noncommittal was the best way out as Gabrielle led him to the bar. He took whatever the beer they were shilling was, not bothering to ask and fully expecting it to be as bland and tasteless as it turned out, while she took a glass of red wine.

"I guess they do. But pet has less responsibilities and gets more attention," Gabrielle said.

"I would think it gets tedious, though," Harry countered. Gabrielle nodded her agreement as she sipped her wine.

"Thanks for coming to this with me," she said as they paced around the party. She continued to introduce him to people. A few of the women gave him the once over. Some asked if he knew any magic tricks. He obliged with actual magic disguised as sleight-of-hand.

"No problem. You don't talk about them much. But it's still nice to put a face to a few of the names," Harry said, knowing full well that he wouldn't remember any of the faces or what names they went to in the morning. And the fact that most of them were in costume wouldn't help.

"I never thought about it. I guess we just have more interesting things to discuss when we meet up," Gabrielle said.

"More interesting than your life?" Harry asked. After her third month of living with him she'd missed the rent. The first three payments had all shown up precisely on the first. It wasn't until the third that it dawned on Harry the next one hadn't come.

He remembered being concerned and confused. He knew he couldn't just let her not pay rent. That wasn't the proper solution even though money wasn't a particular issue. It boiled down to the fact that he didn't know how to be a landlord. He didn't want to confront her about it. But he knew he would have to.

She'd solved his problem well before though. On the afternoon of the third she'd called him on his floo. She seemed surprised that he was home but the morning practice hadn't gone long.

She'd apologised about seven times while explaining that she'd been out touring with the orchestra and she'd sworn she'd set up the payment with the goblins but she must have screwed something up because it never came through and please don't be mad and she had it ready to go.

Harry smiled at her and asked if he could come through. She nodded and he stepped into his London apartment and told her that three days wasn't a big deal and mistakes happen. She'd assured him it wouldn't happen again as she handed him the Gringotts note for the rent. And then, on a whim, he'd asked her to lunch.

She'd been taken aback but she'd agreed. He asked her about the orchestra and she'd asked him about Quidditch. The conversation was a bit dull at first, a bit too careful. But he'd enjoyed himself.

After, Quidditch grew busier and he'd sort of forgotten about it. At least until the next rent check came. He floo'd her and asked her to lunch again. Two weeks later she asked him to a museum she wanted to go to in London. And it continued.

The odd part to him was she reminded him more of Ron or Titus than Ginny. Being around her was just easy. There wasn't any expectation. They spent a few hours together a few times a month, seeing sights, movies, museums, eating. It was always a fun time with little expectation. They talked, but often less about each other and more about whatever they were doing.

They did confide in each other. But Harry didn't really have anything that he to talk to someone about. Sure, thinking about Ginny still wore on him. But he saw no reason to burden Gabrielle with those concerns.

And while she complained of work on occasion, or of something her parents did, or something Fleur did, it never seemed to be more than a friend venting to a friend.

It was six months after that Titus asked him when he was going to shag her. His answer was that he couldn't. When Titus pressed him as to why the first thought that he voiced was because she smelled like Ginny. Titus had stared at him for a solid minute before shaking his head and going to bother Finbar instead.

The conversation made Harry think about it. And, while he thought Gabrielle was a pretty girl, the girl bit was a sticking point. She felt a lot younger than him. Even if everyone told him four years wasn't that long. And really, it was more like three and a half.

But he also didn't want to ruin what they had. Gabrielle had grown to be a close friend of his. One that wasn't involved in either the war or quidditch. And it was a refreshing change of pace for him. It felt, well, normal. And he didn't want to lose that.

Deep down he knew it was because Ginny had been a friend too. And then it had all fallen apart. And a small part of him was constantly reminded of Ginny whenever the thoughts came up. So, he kept her at a distance.

"When you put it that way," Gabrielle frowned. "I guess I should talk more about them. I figured it would bore you."

"I like hearing about your life," Harry said. "It's not boring at all. I think my Quidditch talk must get boring."

"No. It is an exciting game and you are always excited when you talk about it. And that is contagious," Gabrielle said. "Sometimes I feel like I'm on the broom with you."

"I can take you flying sometime if you want," Harry said.

"I may take you up on that. But I want something different right now," she said as she finished her wine and put the glass down on a nearby table.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Dance with me," she said. His first thought was that he didn't want to embarrass himself on the dance floor. His second thought was that his first thought wouldn't matter because she was already dragging him onto the dance floor.

"Okay," he said. He peered down at her hand in his then slid his other around her waist. She squeezed his hand before sliding her free hand around his back and they started to sway slowly to the music.

"Speaking of. How are things going with the team?" she asked.

"Do you really want to talk about Quidditch?" he responded. She shrugged her shoulders as looked up at him with her impossibly blue eyes.

"I like to hear you talk," Gabrielle said.

"The team is fine," Harry responded. "Prepping for Wigtown."

"That is a big match for you," Gabrielle said. "They are your biggest rival right now are they not?"

"They are," Harry said. "And I really enjoy beating Parker."

"Why?" Gabrielle asked.

"He rubs me the wrong way," Harry shrugged. "It just always feels very nice when I have the snitch and he doesn't."

"I bet it does," she said. "But there has to be more to it than that."

"He was just a cock when I first joined the team. I haven't liked him since. It's just a petty grudge," Harry said.

"I see," Gabrielle said. She cocked her head to the side and he thought that she didn't believe him. But she didn't ask him about it. "I'm going to be off on the fifteenth. Can you get me tickets for the match then?"

"Of course," he said. She very rarely asked for tickets. "How many?"

"Four?" she asked. "I was going to invite Bill and Fleur. I think little Louis is still young enough to not need one but Victoire will."

"I'll have them to you in a day or two," Harry said.

"Thank you," Gabrielle said as the song ended. Harry paused for a moment, fully intent on continuing for a second song but a young man approached them and slipped between Harry and Gabrielle and asked her to dance. She was too nice to push him away and they slipped from him on the dance floor. A moment later Tinkerbelle was in his arms.

"Where's Titus?" he asked.

"Finding me more alcohol," Sophie said.

"I wonder if he's a good enough friend to find me alcohol," Harry asked.

"I doubt it," Sophie said.

"Well that's a shame," Harry said. "Enjoying Merry Olde England?"

"I like it here," Sophie said. "It makes the Harpies harder to resist."

"Going to do that?" Harry asked.

"I doubt it," Sophie shrugged. "Half their players are bitches and either Montreal or Saskatoon is going to write me an insane check."

"Not Ballycastle?" Harry teased.

"I don't want to have to call Titus 'captain' in bed," Sophie said.

"That's way too much information," Harry said.

"And I don't think you want to go back to being a backup," Sophie said. Harry gave her his best bemused smile.

"Uh-huh," he said.

"Hey, I'm the only seeker who's caught a snitch against you in international competition," Sophie smirked at him.

"England four-thirty, Canada two-ten," Harry said.

"Irrelevant details," Sophie said.

"If you insist," Harry said.

"I do. But more importantly. This Gabrielle," she said.

"What about her?" Harry responded.

"Well," she turned them. Harry spotted Gabrielle over her shoulder further down the dance floor. "Are you entirely okay with the fact that whomever she's dancing with has his hand on her ass?"

"She's an adult," Harry said stiffly. "And perfectly capable of getting out of a situation she does not want to be in."

"That's what I thought," Sophie said. She turned him again and moved them off the dance floor and back to one of the high-top tables nearby. Titus handed him another beer as Sophie took her drink from him.

Harry turned his attention back to the dance floor. The man Gabrielle was dancing with had moved his hand up to her back. Once the song ended he pulled her from the floor and he lost her in the din of people. He kept scanning the party, feeling incredibly out of place.

His thoughts were only interrupted when someone asked for a photo with Titus and Sophie in their costumes. Harry snapped it for them and handed back the camera. Almost as soon as he'd done that a kid ran up to him, holding Noir tightly to her chest.

"I have to give this back to miss Gabrielle but I can't find her," the girl said.

"I'll get it to her," Harry said.

"Thank you!" the girl said. She handed it to him before scuttling off toward her parents. Harry put the stuffed toy onto the table and turned to look for Gabrielle. He found himself quite bothered that she'd vanished. But he knew how stupid that was.

They weren't a thing. He had to remind himself of that. They were friends. Just friends. He'd made sure of that. And it wasn't Gabrielle's fault that Ginny used to vanish from parties to go snort pixie dust. Gabrielle was not Ginny. And it wasn't any of his business anyway.

Although, he thought wryly, he figured madame Delacour would blame him regardless if she discovered Gabrielle doing that. But hey, he could always transfer to whatever Canadian team didn't sign Sophie and hide away in Canada.

Gabrielle emerged a few minutes later though, smiling brightly at the dog.

"I was looking all over for him," she said. She peered around to make sure no one was looking and then shrank the animal and turned her back to Harry. "Can you put him in the bag?"

"Sure," he said, unzipping the pack around her waist and tucking the toy into it.

"Thanks," she responded.

"So, who was that?" Harry asked.

"Who?" Gabrielle asked as she plucked a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter. Sophie raised her brows at the question and then pulled Titus over to the dance floor, leaving the two of them alone.

"The boy that dragged you away from me," Harry said.

"Oh, that is Geoff," she said. "He is a clarinet."

"He seemed…comfortable," Harry said.

"I guess. We went out on a couple of dates. But then he stopped calling," Gabrielle said.

"Rude of him," Harry commented.

"He would like to do something tomorrow," Gabrielle said.

"And you're going to?" Harry said. He failed at not sounding aghast.

"I do not know," Gabrielle shrugged and slammed the rest of the champagne flight. "I had not decided. It is nice to be wanted."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes. Why are you being weird?" she asked.

"Am I?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, furrowing her brows as she glared at him. He ran his hand through his hair and did his best to look as sheepish as possible.

"Didn't mean to," he said. And then he tried to find an exit strategy for the conversation. "Would you like to dance again?"

Her expression surprised him. The brows narrowed more and her eyes hardened for a moment. A very small part of him wished he was better at getting into people's minds. But he would never have done that to her. Not after how Snape had done it to him in school. He thought she was going to refuse him. And he couldn't blame her. His sudden interest in monopolising her time at her party felt out of place, even for him. But after a moment her expression softened.

"Fleur says you should never refuse a dance," she said. She offered her hand to him and he took it. They spent the rest of the party dancing. Harry wouldn't admit it to her, but he intentionally steered her away from Geoff as the night continued.

Six or seven dances and a drink or two later she looked exhausted. Titus and Sophie departed a few dances earlier. Gabrielle's eyes were blurry as they swayed together on the dance floor. Her arms were crossed around his neck as his hands rested on her hips. She dropped her head toward him, her forehead resting on his neck. His own head tilted down and he braced himself against the flowery perfume that he knew would come.

But it didn't come. Instead he got something softer. Something more earthen, woody, with perhaps a hint of pine and something that felt like vanilla and caramel. Something much warmer than he expected. And, for at least the third time that evening he had to remind himself of one specific fact that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Gabrielle Delacour was not Ginny Weasley.

"I think," she said with a yawn. "That it is time to go home."

"If that's what you want," Harry said.

"It is less embarrassing than falling asleep at a company function," Gabrielle said.

"I'll walk you home," Harry said.

"I need to say my farewells first," Gabrielle said. And she slipped from his arms. He followed her, staying a few steps behind her as she said goodbye to those that were left, Geoff included.

The clarinet glared at Harry, who ducked away from him. He heard him ask Gabrielle if they were on for tomorrow. And her heard her non-committal reply. He didn't say anything when she re-joined him.

They didn't talk on the way home. But she held onto his hand as they maneuvered through the London streets.

He stood with her outside of the entrance to the building. She turned to face him, her back to the door.

"Thank you for coming with me. I know it was not as fun as a Quidditch party," she said. Her blue eyes were wide and the light glowing behind her made her look effervescent. She pressed her lips together and looked rather nervous.

"It was fun," Harry said. "It was nice not being the centre of attention."

"I am glad you enjoyed it," Gabrielle said, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. Harry figured they must have been sore from all the dancing.

"I won't keep you out here in the cold," he smiled as warmly as he could. There was a flash of something in her eyes, but he couldn't place what it was.

"It is not warm," she said. He didn't sense any magic on her and her outfit was not conducive to winter weather. He couldn't help but wonder about the effects of the weather on her as he peered downward.

"Good night, Gabrielle," he said, swallowing hard. He leaned toward her on instinct and thought she did the same but he pulled back after a moment. Her eyes flashed once more and this time he thought it was disappointment he saw in them. But she spoke before he could react.

"Good night, Harry," she said, colour rising to her cheeks, before she turned and fled into the building. Harry stood there for a moment before returning home.

He ended up stopping at one of his favourite pubs in Ballycastle when he returned. He had a beer and a burger and talked with the bartender about Quidditch. A couple of the locals came up to him and asked for autographs. They were all rather inebriated.

He'd left the bar with one of them and almost took her home. But a nagging in his chest and her inability to walk in a straight line or stop giggling turned it into him walking her home. He Apparated to his flat after and crawled into bed sometime around three in the morning.

It was around eleven when he finally hauled himself out of bed. He half expected an angry message from a team official or his agent about some type of missed event but was glad to find there wasn't one.

He made himself a fried egg sandwich as a combination of breakfast and lunch and peered at the box scores in the paper while he ate. He showered when he was done and as he stepped out was greeted to a pounding on his door. He threw on some pants, half debating answering in the nude, and went to open it.

A very disgruntled Justin Finch-Fletchley stood in his doorway.

"Great, you're home," he said.

"Hi Justin," Harry responded as he dried his hair out with magic and waited for an explanation as to why one of the Bats' Front Office staff was at his home.

"We need your help," Justin said, forgoing any other form of introduction or small talk.

"With?" Harry asked. He summoned a Bats team shirt from his closet and pulled it over his head.

"Green has Dragon Pox, Quigley is in the Azores, and I can't find Button or Larson," Justin said.

"That tends to happen when we're given the week off," Harry commented.

"Yes, but Green was supposed to be the lead on a youth charity event at the stadium today. You know, basic drills and the like," Justin said. "Fifty kids are already there. Some of the staff is keeping them occupied but they were promised a starter."

"Find Wright," Harry shrugged, happy to volunteer the keeper in his stead.

"Has his own charity work today," Justin said. "You are my last option."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll be to the stadium in fifteen."

"Please hurry," Justin said. Harry closed the door on him, figuring that at least the man had the decency to come to the door rather than try to floo directly to his flat. He really didn't need the fifteen minutes but he didn't want to seem too bored. So he waited for about ten of them before using his floo to head straight to the players locker room. He changed into his uniform, grabbed his broom, and walked straight onto the pitch, marvelling at the surprised faces of the children milling about.

He spent the remainder of the day there, a bit surprised by the number of activities that were planned for the kids. Normally such gatherings took about two hours, and not seven. But he kept his enthusiasm up and tried to be a gracious host.

He ended the day with a showcase of some of his better moves, smirking as the children gasped at his ability on the broom. After he was finally done Justin showed up to make sure each kid got a personalised, autographed photo with Harry Potter. That took another hour.

He was surprisingly exhausted when he finally returned home. He made a mental note to complain about it to Titus. But he doubted that he'd actually do so. Those types of events amused him. And he didn't mind when the parents weren't present. When they were, questions about Ginny or the War always came up. And those were two topics Harry didn't care about.

Kids sometimes asked about Ginny as well. But that was rarer and they were easier to deflect with a few kind words. And he could always, rather quickly, change the subject on them. And they were easily distracted with any other topic as well.

He peered through his pantry when he arrived home, realising quickly that he should have stopped somewhere to eat. He was just about to step back outside and head to find food when his floo roared to life.

"Harry?" A soft, feminine voice asked. He walked over to the fire and peered down at the mostly coherent face of Gabrielle Delacour.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I tried making coq au vin today," she said. "And, well, my plans fell through so I made far too much. I was wondering if you would like to come through if you have not already eaten. I know it is a bit late."

"I'm famished," Harry admitted. "But I just got done with what ended up being an all-day camp for kids. I'm so not dressed to be presentable and I need a shower."

"It is not like you need to dress up to see me," she said. "You could always just pop over and shower here if you wanted to. And I am in my pyjamas anyway."

"I'll be over in a few," Harry said. He had all sorts of images of what constitutes pyjamas for her. For Ginny that had often meant just a pair of panties and a tank top. And he found that a more appealing option than he cared to admit.

He moved to his bedroom and did take a quick shower, making sure he got all of the grime of the day off his body. But her words about presentability stuck with him and instead of getting dressed he pulled on a pair of athletic shorts and a Bats T-shirt. He moved to the fire before realising it would be rude to arrive empty handed, so he summoned a bottle of red wine from the kitchen and stepped through.

"Hello Harry," she said as he arrived. The smell of a stew that had spent the entire day cooking permeated through the apartment. If it tasted half as good as it smelled he'd be in for a treat. He made sure there wasn't any soot on his feet before stepping away from the fire and moving toward the kitchen.

"Hey, thanks for the invite," he said, placing the bottle of wine on the counter. She stepped away from the dish and smiled at the bottle. Her pyjamas, it turned out, were an oversized Bats practice jersey that thankfully didn't have his number on it. It fell down to around her knees. Perhaps more surprising, was that her hair was back to its natural silvery blonde.

"Oh, thank you," she said. She summoned two glasses from the cabinets and opened the bottle with a twist of her wand.

"Anytime. That smells amazing," Harry said. "Is it ready to eat."

"Whenever you like," she said, pouring two glasses. She slid one over toward him and then took a sip of her own. "Mmm. This is good."

"One of my favourites," Harry said. "Titus gives me an earful about it because it's from Oregon. We were drinking a lot of it while we did an exhibition tour through the western states and Canada. Now that I think of it, it was the same tour Titus met Sophie during."

"Hmm. I did not think Titus had taste." Gabrielle raised her brows at him. "I am not sure I am allowed to drink wine that is not from France. I think Italy is an exception."

"I won't tell if you don't," Harry said.

"Deal," she teased, taking another sip of it.

"Is that really your pyjamas?" Harry asked. Gabrielle raised her brows at him and took another sip of her wine.

"Did you come for food or to see me in my pyjamas?" she teased.

"Can it be both?" And I see you're a blonde again." he said trying to change the subject.

"I got sick of seeing someone else in the mirror. It was fun while it lasted but I like natural me more. And no, my pyjamas are on underneath. I was just chilly even after I started the fire, and the jerseys are very warm," she said.

"I liked both brunette and blonde you," he said. "And yeah, the all-weather ones are warm. Made for the winter matches. You look better in it than I do, though."

"I do not think that is true," she said. "But I will take the compliment."

"Oh, trust me, it's true," Harry smiled at her. He sipped his wine and kept looking at her. She shifted her weight around, peering back at him.

"You are looking at me like you expect me to take it off," she said a flush rising to her cheeks. Harry did his best to blink away his surprise.

"No, I….uhm…sorry I," Harry stammered.

"Do you want me to take it off?" she asked, the colour continuing to rise up her face. Her hands trailed down the jersey toward the hem. Harry swallowed hard as his next words rose slowly to his lips. But, before he could speak, his stomach rumbled rather loudly, causing him to blush at least as deep as pink as Gabrielle.

"Food first?" he asked.

"Food first," she agreed, her hands slipping from the jersey as she moved into the kitchen. She gestured to the dining bar in the kitchen and Harry moved over to it, a wave of his wand created two placemats at the stools there and he sat at one of them as she served up two portions of the chicken.

She put the larger of the two plates before him and then sat next to him. Harry started eating immediately. Gabrielle focused on her wine for a minute or two.

"This is very good," he said. She speared a piece of chicken on her fork and brought it to her lips. She chewed it slowly and then shrugged.

"Mother's is better," she said. "But it is not bad."

"If you're not going to eat yours I will," he said, reaching toward her plate with his fork. She wacked it away with her own and a soft giggle.

"There will be plenty left over if you would like to take some home," she said.

"Great," he responded as he shovelled more of it into his mouth. "Doesn't this take like all day to make?"

"It can," she said, shrugging her shoulders in a way that made him suspect she used a magical shortcut or two.

"Do you cook often? It occurs to me we've never talked about that while at lunch or anything," Harry said.

"Not all of us can afford to eat out for every meal," she said, a teasing playfulness in her voice. "And there's only so much takeaway a girl can tolerate. How about you?"

"The Dursleys used to make me cook. I'm better with breakfast foods but I can do most basic things. I'm severely out of practice with anything that isn't eggs though," Harry said.

"I like eggs," Gabrielle said.

"Me too," Harry responded. They were silent for a few moments as they ate and drank before Harry continued the conversation. "So what were your plans that fell through?"

"Nothing too special," she said. "Geoff was supposed to come over and watch some muggle movie that everyone keeps telling us they can't believe we haven't seen."

"I see," Harry said, finding the food suddenly tasteless. He peered around the apartment and noticed she had the muggle appliances and electronics out. He suspected with her profession that she often did. "So you wanted to make him a nice dinner?"

"No," she said. "I was doing that today anyway. I figured it would keep well for leftovers. It was more coincidence. And it gave me something to do when he stood me up."

"No way," he said.

"He wanted to go on a date before we watched the movie. I did not want to do that. I suppose he did not quite stand me up but he did not come over when he said he would," she shrugged her shoulders. "But we agreed upon the time before I vetoed the date."

"I see," Harry frowned and distracted himself with the food. "I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault," she said. "He is nice but I do not have feelings for him. He cannot seem to get that through his head."

"Men are slow," Harry said.

"I have noticed," Gabrielle responded.

"I think I should be offended by that," Harry said.

"Maybe tomorrow at your speed," Gabrielle said.

"You are spending way too much time with Titus to be teasing me like that," Harry laughed. "The last thing I need is more people like Titus in my life."

"One Titus is too many," Gabrielle said.

"Most Quidditch franchises would disagree with that," Harry said.

"Then they should get to know him better," Gabrielle responded.

"Good plan, then Ballycastle won't have to pay him as much," Harry said.

"I thought you both took a pay cut," Gabrielle said.

"We did but not a very large one," Harry smiled. "And it was mostly just an accounting move."

"I see. It all sounded very confusing in the paper," Gabrielle said.

"They do that," Harry said. "It boiled down to just moving money around on the contracts to free up a little more for the next few seasons. They used it to give Wright more up front."

"I see," Gabrielle said. And Harry realised that discussing the finer points of Quidditch contracts was poor dinner conversation.

"What is the movie supposed to be about?" Harry asked.

"I do not really know. Some Princess and her wedding I think," Gabrielle said.

"And you have to see it?" he said.

"I have been told that much, yes," she responded.

"Well, want to watch it after dinner?" he asked.

"Uhm, I should clean up and then get some practice in. You do not have to stay for some princess movie," she said.

"Well for one, I can clean up while you get your practice in. For two, I like movies," Harry said, spearing the last bit of chicken on his plate and eating it," Harry said.

"You do not have to do that! You are the guest!" Gabrielle said.

"Oh please. It won't take me long. Go grab your flute and get to work," Harry teased. Gabrielle swatted at him but did slide off of her stool and moved to the corner of the living room, near the fireplace, where he noticed she had a chair and a music stand set up. He watched her assemble the flute before he slid off his own stool and started the process of cleaning up.

With magic it didn't take him very long. But he intentionally drew it out, making sure each plate was completely spotless as could be to give her as much time to play as she could need. The soft, airy notes of the flute filled the flat and he paused for a few minutes just to listen to what she played.

He found some Tupperware and put the rest of the stew into individual containers before sealing them with magic. He put them into the fridge as well, astonished both by the meticulous organisation of her fridge and the distinct lack of alcohol. Sure, she had a wine rack, but nothing in the fridge?

He shuddered from that thought before he turned his attention to the pot she'd made the stew in. Next, he spent a few moments figuring where to put everything away. She'd decided that every cabinet he'd used held the wrong item. So it took a few minutes of guesswork, but he figured it out.

Once he finished, he moved into the living room and sat on the couch. She was too absorbed in her music to notice. He summoned the bottle of wine and the glasses to him and refilled both. He took a sip out of his and turned to watch her.

He didn't know much about music but it seemed to be a fairly difficult piece. From her expression, and the sounds coming from the flute, she was struggling with a specific part. She'd pull the instrument from her lips every few moments and glare at the sheet music.

After four unsuccessful attempts she glared at the fire and put the flute down. She pulled the jersey over her head in annoyance and tossed it toward the master bedroom. It landed unceremoniously on the floor as she brought the flute back to lips.

Her pyjamas, Harry noticed, were a pair of pale pink cotton shorts and a matching cotton tank top. He stared for a few moments his eyes tracing down the smooth skin of her legs as she played. It took her four more attempts until she nailed whatever she was working on. Or at least Harry assumed she did as she continued to play after.

"That sounded great," Harry said as she finished the song. Gabrielle shook her head as she pulled the flute apart.

"It was okay," she said. "That is going to be a fun song to learn. It is very technical."

"How long do you have?" Harry asked.

"A month or so before we perform it," Gabrielle said. "It will be part of our winter concert."

"I can't wait to hear it again," Harry said.

"I can play it again right now," she teased as she finished tucking the flute into its case.

"You could," Harry said. "Or you can find that movie and we can watch it."

"Okay," she said. She summoned the other glass of wine to her and took a sip of it. She moved toward the television and after a few moments had some type of menu up. Harry watched the images on it for a moment before hie eyes followed Gabrielle. He would have bet she had an exaggerated sway in her step as she left the room.

She emerged a few minutes later wrapped in a soft blue blanket. Harry waited as she made a bowl of popcorn and then joined him on the couch, sitting next to him with the popcorn in her lap.

"Ready?" he asked, taking a handful of it.

"Ready," she said and she started the movie. It was a standard fantasy adventure with a fair amount of humour injected into it. Harry found it amusing. Although he was slightly distracted when she put the popcorn on the coffee table and then rested her head on his shoulder as she watched the movie. They didn't talk until it ended with a kiss.

"That was good," he said, incredibly aware of her warmth against him.

"Mmmhmm," she said, stifling a yawn.

"And I think I would make an incredible Dread Pirate Roberts," Harry said.

"Well, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Harry," Gabrielle countered.

"Not even if I asked nicely?" he asked.

"It would depend on how nicely," she said. She sat up, shrugging the blanket off her and toward the end of the couch. Harry stared at her for a moment. She was about the same height as Ginny, he knew. And also had a petite build. But she was curvier, softer, the look of someone who didn't exercise for a living. She leaned back toward him in a way that drew his attention to her top. She filled out the tank top far better than Ginny would have.

"How nicely are we talking?" he asked.

"I do not know," she said, shifting her legs underneath her on the couch. She rested her arm on the back of it and tilted her head to look at him. The strap of her tank top slid down one of her arms.

"That doesn't give me much to go on," he said.

"No. It does not," Gabrielle said. She finished her wine and banished the glasses to the kitchen.

"So, no Pirate Harry," he said.

"No," she said. "Although that may have been a better option for last night."

"Day late and a galleon short," Harry said. "Still doesn't answer how nice I'd have to be."

"Tell me what happened with Ginny," she said. Harry watched the flush rise up her cheeks as she spoke, the pink contrasting nicely with the creamy pale white. He pressed his lips together as she looked away from him. He could sense she immediately regretted the question.

"That's not a nice story," Harry said.

"I assumed it would not be," Gabrielle responded.

"It's not really a long one either. I decided to surprise her one morning when she was due home from an international match. So I went to her apartment. I found her, let's say…post-coitus…and high out of her mind. With Parker stepping out of the shower," Harry said.

"No!" Gabrielle gasped, her eyes going wide.

"Yes," Harry said. "She didn't even recognise me. That's how fucked up she was. We split a week later."

"A week?" Gabrielle raised her brows at him. "Not that instant?!"

"No. She came over three days later and asked why I had been so distant. I told her. She exploded at me. It wasn't her fault. So what if people wanted her? And the drugs weren't that big of a deal. So she had a fling with Jason Williams, who cares?" Harry said.

"But you said you found her with James Parker," Gabrielle said.

"I did," Harry said.

"Oh," Gabrielle said. "And that was it?"

"No. I took her back after she broke down and spent the rest of the night crying about how a stupid mistake shouldn't ruin her life. She said she'd never do it again. And she'd kick the drugs. And please just give her a second chance," Harry sighed.

"You didn't," Gabrielle frowned.

"I did. Four days. It was nice really. She was the perfect girlfriend, fun, smiling, happy. It was like how she was at school. I could almost forget what she'd done. We were about to go to bed one night and I ducked into the bathroom to refill my water. And there she was, bent over the counter with the dust lined up on it. I just left. I know I shouldn't have. It's an addiction. It's a problem. She needed help. But….I…well…I didn't want to be the one to help her," Harry said.

"Harry she cheated on you, you do not owe her anything," Gabrielle said.

"That's what they say. She tried to contact me a lot the next few days. But I ignored her. The following week the articles started appearing saying I was abusive and a terrible person," Harry said.

"But you could have stopped that all so easily," Gabrielle frowned.

"I was going to. But after she got suspended for the drug test I decided she didn't need to have more on her mind," Harry shrugged. "And I'm accustomed to being the bad guy. Being the villain would have destroyed Ginny."

"But she deserves it," Gabrielle said.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. He gazed around the apartment, his eyes resting on the cabinet where he'd have kept his whisky, wondering what Gabrielle kept in there. Somehow, he doubted it was whisky.

"Titus was right. You are a saint," Gabrielle frowned.

"I don't think I'd go that far," Harry said.

"That's because you're too busy being too good to be true," Gabrielle said. "I cannot imagine going through the media storm you did knowing full well that you could have ended it with a sentence. She betrayed you. She betrayed Harry Potter. Who loved her!"

"Yeah, but it's over. There's no real point in dwelling on it," Harry said.

"Perhaps you are correct. We should dwell on something else," Gabrielle said.

"What's that? And please don't call me a saint again," Harry said.

"I do not know. Would you like another drink?" she asked.

"Do you have anything harder than wine?"

"Calvados," she said. She rose form the couch and walked to the kitchen, returning with two small glasses of amber liquid. Harry sipped his. The warmth of it filling him for a moment as the hint of apple washed over his tongue.

"Thanks," he said as she re-joined him on the couch. She sat next to him. Closer than she had for the movie. They drank in silence. Harry found he enjoyed having her close to him. But as thoughts of how close he wanted her to be filled his head he knew he needed to leave.

"I should probably head home soon," he said, looking at his now empty glass of brandy.

"You don't have to," she whispered.

"Seems silly to take the second bedroom when all I have to do is floo home," he said.

"That is not what I meant," she said.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Well," she shrugged and then she sat up, sliding a leg around him, before resting in his lap. Her warmth and her weight resting right on him as she leaned toward him. "We should only need one bed."

He watched as she leaned toward him, her eyes closed as her lips grew closer to his. He froze. His mind still lost in how wonderful her weight felt on his lap, and then her chest against his, before he knew he had to act. He tilted his face slightly to the side and her lips pressed to his cheek.

"Ellie, we shouldn't do this," he whispered. Her face fell, literally. Her forehead pressing into his chest as her perfume rose into his nostrils. She was quiet for a few moments before she lifted her head up to look at him.

"Damn it Harry Potter," she growled. "What do I have to do? What do I have to say?"

"Ellie…" He started but she interrupted him.

"No. You do not get to talk unless you are telling me what I need to do. What do I need to say? How vulgar do you need me to be?" Gabrielle asked.

"Ellie…It's not that…It's," he started.

"I can feel you, Harry Potter," she said, pressing down against him as if for emphasis. "I can feel how hard you are. Do I have to tell you how empty I feel? Do I have to tell you how wet I am? Do I have to tell you how I ache to have you inside of me? Tell me what I need to say."

"Elle," he gasped, biting his lip as he stared into her wide eyes. The blue of them seeming to shine in the light from the fireplace. His hands betrayed him, though. The moved from the couch and slid to her hips.

"I love you, Harry Potter. And I want you. And I know you want me. So enough of this. Stop pretending that I am some little girl. I am not. And I can tell you have noticed," she said. She moved one of her hands to his and guided it up her ribs and to her breast. He cupped it on instinct, stifling a groan as the flesh gave way to his hand through her clothing.

"Elle," he whispered.

"I am not her. I am not going to betray you. I want to be with you. Now kiss me and admit that you want me too," she whispered.

"I want you," he whispered. His lips close to hers. But he didn't close the gap. His entire body was tense with longing. The muscles in his neck throbbing with anticipation as he waited. He stared into her eyes for a moment. It took all of his willpower to move his hand. She groaned as he did, her eyes darkening until she felt his arms slide around her. He held her to him as their lips met for the first time.

She tasted sweet, wine and fruit mixed into a flavour he couldn't fathom having enough of. She gasped into his mouth as their lips melded together. Harry's qualms melted away. They were all too contrived, he thought as she sat in his lap. And in that moment he wanted nothing more than her.

The sun filtering through the windows woke him. The bed was warm and the blankets around him felt almost as nice as the bare flesh pressing into him. His arm was still wrapped around her waist and his face pressed into her hair.

Memories of the previous night flashed through his head as he held her. Their clothing hadn't made it off the couch and after that it had felt like they were trying to make up for missed time. They were both barely awake as he'd collapsed onto her one final time on her bed. Harry remembered kissing her again and then the next memory was waking up.

He traced his hand around her stomach, gently letting his nails skim over her skin as his hand trailed down, sliding around her legs and over her hips. Part of him struggled to realise that she was real as she pressed her body back against him. He peered at her and noticed her eyes were still closed and she was still sleeping. He pressed his face into her hair and kissed her head before closing his eyes and trying to fall back asleep.

But sleep didn't come. He'd never been very good at falling back into it after he woke. He wondered how much of that came from the Dursleys waking him early and making sure he stayed awake. Still, he grew restless. He tried to shift away from her and to get out of bed but she groaned.

"Non," she snapped.

"Quoi?" he teased. She rolled over to face him.

"How do you pronounce one word that poorly?" she asked.

"I thought it was perfect," he said.

"You were incorrect. And you are not sneaking out of bed to leave me to wake up alone," Gabrielle said.

"Technically you're awake so you didn't wake up alone," he said.

"I am trying to go back to sleep," she said, cuddling against him and closing her eyes.

"Fine," Harry said, he rolled onto his back and pulled her onto him. Her head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. "But do you really think I was going to just ditch you?"

"I had to beg you to even take me to bed. It would not have surprised me had you snuck off all worried about what you did," Gabrielle said.

"I was going to make some eggs. But now I'm not sure I want to," Harry said.

"I am not awake enough to be hungry yet," she said. "But I think I will be able to convince you once I am."

"I dunno, I'm stubborn," Harry said. Gabrielle laughed rather loudly, the movement of doing so doing wonderful things to her body against his.

"I had noticed that," she said. He ran his hands up and down her back as she settled against him. After a few moments he whispered.

"I didn't say it last night. But I love you too, Gabrielle," he said. "Is it weird to admit that right now?"

"Titus says we have been dating for a year without admitting to it. So, I do not think it is too weird," Gabrielle said.

"Great, professional athlete dates teenager will be a great headline," Harry said.

"I am almost twenty-one," Gabrielle said. "You are not nearly as old as you think you are. Bill is seven years older than Fleur."

"I feel older," Harry said. Gabrielle shifted so she could brush her lips over his neck.

"You are not. You are also not going to let me sleep longer, are you?" Gabrielle asked.

"I'm never good at going back to bed once I'm up," Harry admitted.

"We are going to have to work on that. I do not like to get up the first time I wake up," Gabrielle said. Her hand traced over his chest.

"I look forward to that," Harry said. Gabrielle rolled off him and sat up on the bed. Harry admired her in the weak morning light enjoying the view tremendously. He saw her blush as she quickly moved to her dresser.

"And I think I am going to have to get used to you staring," she said.

"You're beautiful," he said. She blushed more.

"Thank you," she said, shimming into a pair of panties. Harry's mind filled with visions of taking them right off her. "I would like onion, ham and peppers in my omelette."

"I'm taking breakfast orders now?" Harry asked as he too rose from her bed.

"If you are not going to let me sleep, then yes," she said. Harry smiled and walked over to her. His hands rested on her hips as he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back, pressing her chest to his.

"I'll get right on breakfast," he said.

"Kiss me again, first," she whispered. He obliged, letting it linger for a few minutes before he slipped from her to both start breakfast and find his pants.

He settled on just his boxers as he moved into the kitchen. Gabrielle joined him a moment later, sliding behind him and wrapping her arms around his as he made the eggs. Her omelette was more complicated than his scrambled, but not by a whole lot. She slipped from him and took some fruit from the fridge, slicing it as he finished the preparation of the eggs. It appeared like she'd merely thrown the Quidditch jersey on, and nothing else.

They devoured the food when it was done. She'd insisted on cleaning and once she'd finished with that he pulled her into his lap on the stool and resumed kissing her. They were still doing that when the fire roared to life.

"You better be awake Gabrielle!" Fleur said as she stepped through into the living room. "Maman says you need a new black dress because you've worn the same one to the last five shows! We are going….oh my…"

"Hi Fleur," Harry said, aware that one of his hands was currently in Gabrielle's underwear as his other was holding her in his lap.

"Uhm…I…Uh," Fleur averted her eyes as Gabrielle buried her face in Harry's chest as if that would make her decent. Harry slipped his hands out of her clothing as he looked at Fleur.

"Fleur!" Gabrielle squealed into Harry's chest.

"I think you two have some talking to do," Harry said as he put Gabrielle down on the floor of the kitchen.

"Non," Fleur said, still looking everywhere but Gabrielle and Harry. "We have shopping to do. More shopping than anticipated."

"Oh?" Harry perked up.

"Yes," Fleur nodded.

"Fleur!" Gabrielle squealed again, blushing and hiding her face in her hands. Harry took her hands and lowered them, holding them in his own.

"Floo me when you're done," he said, kissing her lovingly. Gabrielle clung to him for a few moments as she kissed him back. It wasn't until Fleur cleared her throat that they broke apart. Harry kissed her forehead and slipped from her as he fled via the floo.


	5. Question

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work

Question

December 28-9, 2005

"Welcome home," Gabrielle said as Harry stepped through the floo and back into his Ballycastle apartment.

"Good to be home, babe," Titus said as he followed Harry through the fire.

"I didn't think you'd wait up with your performance tomorrow," Harry said. It had been around six in the evening when they'd taken the Portkey from New York.

"I'm glad I have a robe on, at least," Gabrielle smiled as she rose from the couch. A fluffy white robe was wrapped tightly around her. "And do not call me babe."

"Sorry honey," Titus said.

"Would you like to curse him or should I?" Gabrielle asked.

"We can always take turns," Harry said as he peered around the apartment. She'd decorated it for the holiday in the time he'd been gone. Sure, they'd put up the lit tree that resided in the corner of the living room together, and put the presents underneath it. But she'd added more lights and garlands to almost every surface. In fact, the only lights on in the flat were Christmas lights, giving it a darker, yet more colourful feel than normal.

"Oh! We could! And you could show me all sorts of jinxes I am sure!" Gabrielle said.

"I could!" Harry responded. "Let's get a couple of targets out and pin them on him."

"Hey now. I signed up for beer, not for being tormented," Titus said.

"Why did you even bring him?" Gabrielle teased.

"Threesome?" Titus teased. Gabrielle wrinkled her nose at him as if something in the room smelled unpleasant.

"Maybe if he brought Sophie instead," she said. Titus made an exaggerated hurt expression as Harry laughed.

"I assumed you'd be in bed and we're still five hours behind so we were going to have a couple of beers to unwind," Harry said.

"How was the last match today?" she asked.

"Great," Harry said. "We beat Boston pretty badly to be honest. But they're the American equivalent of Chudley."

"You did not lose at all over there did you?" she asked.

"Five and oh," Harry said with a smile. Gabrielle rose from the couch and moved to the kitchen. She came back with three bottles of beer and passed them around.

"Worth celebrating," she said.

"More if the matches actually meant anything. As is, it was just an annoyingly long winter break where I played more Quidditch than I would while not on break," Titus said.

"And right back to it on the first," Harry sighed and sipped his beer.

"Yet you love it," Gabrielle said.

"Not as much as I love you," he responded.

"Aww," Titus teased.

"I am not sure that is true. But I do not want to make it a competition," Gabrielle said as she started on her own beer.

"Well, regardless, to love and Quidditch," Titus said as he held up his bottle.

"Love and Quidditch," Gabrielle and Harry laughed in unison as they clinked their bottles and all took a sip.

"Damn what is this?" Titus asked, looking at the bottle. There was no label on the standard bottle.

"First batch of that IPA Neville is working on," Harry said.

"The one you invested in?" Titus asked.

"The same," Harry said.

"It's really good," Titus said, taking another sip. "Think he's interested in more bankers?"

"I can't imagine he'd say no," Harry said. "I can talk to him about it for you if you like."

"Do that," Titus said.

"Are we only going to talk about beer?" Gabrielle asked. "I would have just gone to bed had I known that was the case."

"Well we could talk about wine but Harry can barely tell the difference between red and white," Titus teased.

"And you mistook a Burgundy for a Bordeaux," Gabrielle teased. "But I suppose we all know you are uncultured swine."

"Hey, I'm not that much of an idiot. And Gabrielle's father insists I learn more. Every family dinner is like a lesson in wine. I'm not sure how Gabrielle and Fleur aren't sommeliers," Harry said.

"Because all we had to do was look pretty and drink it and change the subject if we were asked to talk about it. It is very simple," Gabrielle said.

"I tried that. It didn't work well," Harry said.

"Because you talk about Quidditch," Gabrielle said.

"Or you," Harry said.

"Neither topic of which is that interesting," Gabrielle commented. "At least they will not be drinking while you entertain them tomorrow."

"You're entertaining the Delacours tomorrow and you didn't think to invite me?" Titus asked.

"Strangely I didn't. And yes. I'm going to show them around Ballycastle before we pop over to London for a concert and a late dinner," Harry said.

"All while still on the wrong time zone," Titus said. "That's dedication."

"Well not all of us can sleep all of tomorrow and hope for the best," Harry said.

"I do not know, that sounds nice," Gabrielle said.

"Great, you're rubbing off on her," Harry sighed. "I knew I should have kept you two separated by a few hundred miles."

"How are the Delacours taking it? I remember you thought the mother was a bit cold to you," Titus said.

"Really?" Gabrielle asked.

"That was years ago when I started renting the flat to you. They've been perfectly cordial since. So cordial I suspect someone shared privileged information with them," Harry said, his eyes flashing over to Gabrielle.

"I only told Fleur," Gabrielle said. "What she did with that information I can't be blamed for."

"Sure you can. And I'll punish you for it later," Harry said.

"Promise?" Gabrielle asked, tilting her head to the side inquisitively.

"My God you two, you've only been away from each other for two weeks," Titus said.

"An eternity," Harry sighed.

"Perhaps even two eternities," Gabrielle agreed.

"But anyway. Her parents don't hate you and think you'll turn her into a drug-obsessed Quidditch groupie?" Titus said.

"No. Turns out they never liked Ginny," Harry said.

"No one ever liked Ginny," Titus said. "She's a bitch. I mean sure she's hot and all. But she is a very unpleasant person to be around."

"She was always nice to me," Harry said.

"So nice she had an affair with at least two men," Gabrielle scoffed.

"Well, before that," Harry said.

"She was a Harry Potter fangirl her entire childhood. Once she was more famous for something on her own, I'm sure snagging Harry Potter was less interesting," Titus said.

"I liked this story more when she was just a drug-addled teenager making stupid decisions. I don't think anything was ever that malicious," Harry said.

"That's because," Titus started.

"I'm not a saint," Harry said. "She and I still may have worked out had we tried five or six years later rather than right out of Hogwarts. Although, I found a much better option."

"Thank you," Gabrielle said, hugging him.

"Are you still charging her rent?" Titus asked.

"No," Harry laughed. "I think I took three months after we were dating. But then it seemed kind of silly when we started to spend most nights in the same bed. In fairness to me, she just kept giving me checks on the first of the month."

"Yet I still have not received my deposit back," Gabrielle said pointedly.

"Haha," Harry said.

"She has a point," Titus said.

"I'll write her a check in the morning," Harry rolled his eyes. Gabrielle swatted him on the shoulder.

"Another round?" she asked. Titus looked at his bottle and nodded.

"Sure," he said before taking a large swig and finishing his beer. Harry did the same and Gabrielle took both bottles back to the kitchen. Titus watched her go before turning his gaze to Harry.

"Still worried?" he laughed. "She's waiting up for you after a road trip and entirely happy that you showed up with a friend completely unannounced."

"I'm only worried she'll say no and laugh at me for asking," Harry said.

"Man, someone needs to just straight up murder your relatives for whatever they did to your sense of self. You're a good man, Harry. And you make a great couple. Hell, you don't even make me feel like a third wheel," Titus said.

"Even though we'd be having sex right now if you weren't here," Harry said.

"I mean feel free," Titus said. "I'll watch."

"Watch what?" Gabrielle asked as she returned with two beers. She handed one to Titus and one to Harry.

"Nothing," Harry said. "Titus is just being Titus."

"Oh, so he would like a show?" Gabrielle asked. She shifted so the robe exposed more of her bare shoulders and the top of her chest.

"I really do you let you two hang out too much," Harry said, shaking his head.

"At least as much of one as Fleur got," Titus teased.

"You said you would not tell anyone that!" Gabrielle hissed.

"I didn't. I told Titus. That's like telling Fleur. And I just said we were found in a compromising position. I didn't give the exact details," Harry said.

"And it's quite an amusing story. I'm sure that's not how her parents found out," Titus said.

"No, Fleur did not tell them. She told me I should be the one to do it. And well, I sort of failed at that," Gabrielle said.

"How so?" Titus asked. Gabrielle looked up at Harry and he sighed.

"Well it was my fault," he said. And he explained it to Titus.

It had been the match she'd asked for tickets to. Two weeks or so after they'd fallen into bed together. A rather whirlwind two weeks really. But one that was far more entertaining than anything else Harry remembered in his life.

He'd told Titus the morning that it had happened. He'd woken Titus and Sophie when he'd called. But Titus told him to come through. He made coffee while they showered and then couldn't get to the point when they'd asked him what was bothering him.

It had been Sophie who'd figured it out, exclaiming that they'd finally fucked in the otherwise silent room. He'd glared at her but Titus's laughter kept him from saying anything mean. And they'd then congratulated him.

They'd told him his qualms were stupid. That annoyed him. But it was Sophie again who made him realise they were right. It was simple, she'd said. Who did he want to spend time with the most? And she'd even laughed when he pointed out the answer and then pointed out that he thought that before they'd had sex too.

He loved her. He'd already admitted that to her. But saying it out loud helped. Sophie had raised her hands then and said that settled it. He loved her. She loved him. That was all there needed to be. It seemed odd to Harry that it could be that simple.

He'd gone home after making his second breakfast of the day as a thank you. As he waited by the floo he wondered how he'd convince Titus to break up with Sophie after she'd requested waffles for breakfast. But that thought didn't occupy him for very long. He grew more anxious with each passing hour, spending the time reading the paper and reviewing Quidditch plays. It was after dinner when she finally called him.

He invited her through and she hugged him as soon as she'd stepped from the fire. She apologised. Fleur had distracted her all day. And she'd really just wanted to be with him. He'd kissed her and told her it was fine, he understood. And then she'd yawned and he'd realised how tired she looked.

Of course, it was all his fault. He'd kept her up late the night before and hadn't let her sleep in. And then her sister had dragged her all around London shopping for who knows what. He carried her to his bedroom and held her while she slept and couldn't remember a time he'd been happier.

They'd spent most of the next two weeks together. Or at the very least called each other on the floo at nights where they didn't. They'd talked about their relationship. Harry knew that dating him would put her in the public eye. He asked if she wanted to keep it quiet. She'd made a face to demonstrate how distasteful she found that. A face that had cheered him more than he thought it would.

He wanted people to know. He wanted to have her with him at events, out in public, wherever they could be together. He wanted Gabrielle Delacour at his side. And they'd left it at that. She wanted to be the one to tell her parents first. But after that, she wanted the same things he wanted.

The match she'd asked for tickets came around quickly enough. It would be the first match he'd had since they were involved. He'd given her the tickets she'd requested a few days before and she had used them as a gift for Bill's birthday despite it still being a few days away.

He flew up to them in the stands during the pregame and wished Bill a happy birthday and spent a few moments entertaining the kids. But he hadn't had the time to do much else before the match started. He flew away from them with a smile and lined up for the opening draw.

It was an odd match for him. He'd always had friends in the stadiums before. Hell, he almost always had at last one person he knew in the stands. That wasn't a very big deal. But Ginny had never come to one of his matches, mostly due to scheduling conflicts. He didn't blame her for that, he only ever went to one of hers. It was just a difficult when they often played at the same time. And he'd never really had someone there he cared for like he cared for Gabrielle. It sent a pang through his chest to see her fully clothed in Bats gear, cheering him on.

It ended up being a drawn-out affair taking nearly three and a half hours. The upstart Tutshill Tornadoes were playing their best Quidditch of the season against the defending champions. They managed to pull ahead in the latter half of the match behind an incredible performance from the chaser Jason Williams.

But Harry got the snitch and ended it with a Bats victory. He pumped his fist in the air as the golden ball struggled against his hands, glaring briefly at Williams before flying over toward Gabrielle and her family in the stands. He tossed the snitch to a gob-smacked Victoire and pulled Gabrielle onto his broom for a kiss. The remaining crowd cheered nearly as loud as they had for the win.

The photo hadn't made the front page of the sports section of the Prophet. But it had been all over the lifestyle and entertainment sections of the paper. And had even made some international papers. And had led to Apolline and Louis Delacour flooing their daughter in the morning.

While Harry had spent the night with her in London, he'd gone to the team's morning meetings before her parents showed up. They were still there when he came over after lunch. They'd interrogated him a bit. Mostly, he thought, to make sure their stories matched.

The Delacour's seemed fairly surprised that the two of them had only just started dating. They were very concerned about Harry's lifestyle. Which led to Gabrielle chastising them and telling them just what Ginny had done.

They seemed sceptical of that. But Harry told them the truth and after a while they eased up which allowed for him to change the topic and invite them all to dinner in London. He spent most of the evening talking to Louis while Gabrielle and Apolline chatted in French. About him, he was sure, but it seemed rude to point that out. Louis seemed much more open than Apolline. And he chose that night to start Harry's wine education. It was either that or politics. And wine was the better choice.

"I can't imagine finding out your daughter is shagging the chosen one via a photo in the paper is a particularly fun day," Titus laughed.

"They took it well, I think," Gabrielle smiled. "But they always did like Harry. I remember father telling Fleur she should have snagged him after the tournament."

"Really?" Harry laughed.

"Yes," Gabrielle said. "But it was teasing."

"But hey, they had two daughters," Titus teased.

"Except that now both of them are with Englishmen. That is abhorrent," Gabrielle said.

"He might be honorary Irish by this point," Titus said.

"That makes it worse," Gabrielle said.

"Hey, the Irish are nice," Harry said.

"But their whiskey sucks," Titus said.

"I'm so going to leak that to the Ballycastle press," Harry said.

"Well, the Melodies are looking for a new beater," Titus said.

"And that's getting leaked too," Harry said.

"One day we should just leak random stories and watch the world burn," Titus said.

"I think that would drive me insane," Harry said.

"And I would leak what Ginny did," Gabrielle said. "And he would get mad at me for having to deal with that again."

"He'd probably appreciate that someone said in public that wasn't him," Titus said.

"We could always try it. Let it slip while he is still in the locker room or something," Gabrielle said.

"I like the way you think," Titus said. "Maybe wait until Ginny trots another boyfriend in front of the media and tries to talk about how amazing their relationship is."

"I cannot be the only one who thinks that they never look happy in those articles," Gabrielle said.

"I don't look at them," Harry said.

"You aren't missing much," Titus said. "Personally, I think she just does it to stay in the media. If you'll notice she hasn't been single the entire time you've been dating."

"And because she is jealous," Gabrielle said.

"That too," Titus said. "Anyway, I think I've delayed your evening activities long enough. Thanks for the beers Gabrielle. You going to come in to work out tomorrow?"

"Yeah, probably ten or so," Harry said.

"See you then," Titus said as he turned to the floo and left the apartment. Harry took the empty beer bottles into the kitchen and threw the into the recycling. He hugged Gabrielle again when he was finished and nuzzled his face into her hair.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too," she whispered back.

"Sorry I missed the holidays," he said.

"We knew it would happen with the one exhibition being on Christmas," she said.

"Still didn't feel good getting done and being stuck in a hotel with Titus," Harry sighed.

"Well, we will have to see if it can be avoided next time," Gabrielle said.

"It's a busy season for both of us," Harry commented.

"We will make it work," Gabrielle said. Harry nodded, knowing it was the truth but still glad she felt the same way. Things with Gabrielle were always easy. That wasn't to say they hadn't had a row or two. But things always worked out. It was so different being in a relationship with someone who cared for him as much as he did her.

And when they had issues, they were able to talk through them without screaming at each other or without really any major conflict. They never went to bed angry with each other. Which was good, Harry thought, as he slept far better when she was in his arms.

Still he'd made his decision surprisingly early into the relationship. Too early, he thought. It actually frightened him. He remembered the exact moment. There wasn't anything special about it.

They'd just gone for a walk up the Queen's Walk and enjoyed the early morning air. They'd stopped and leaned over a railing on the Riverwalk and peered at the people on the river that morning. He remembered the fuzzy sky-blue sweater and floral skirt she wore as clear as he remembered her hair blowing around her in the breeze.

She'd turned to look at him, her eyes shining in the sunlight as she brushed a strand of her loose hair behind her ear in a fruitless endeavor. And she'd uttered one word.

"Brunch?" she'd asked.

"Sure," Harry smiled and watched her face light up like the morning sun. And somehow, it was just that smile. He'd seen it a thousand times before. He'd seen that smile on her face when he'd won Quidditch matches and when he was selected to the English roster for the world cup. He'd seen that smile during and after every concert she participated in. He'd seen it when she played with little Louis and Victoire. He'd seen it through shared triumphs and shared happiness.

But, in that moment, he knew he wanted to look at that smile for the rest of his life. He wanted to wake up to that smile, he wanted that smile to follow him through the day, and he wanted to end his day with that smile. He wanted to make that smile a permanent fixture on her face. And he wanted her to be with him through everything for the rest of his days. And he wondered, despite how quickly he seemed to realise it, how long it had taken him to arrive at that decision.

He'd told Titus immediately. His friend had shrugged his shoulders and told Harry that he often made very good decisions. And they both knew Gabrielle was a lovely girl. And that if Harry was sure, that was all there was to it.

But he'd advised him not to rush it. They were both still young and in love. Try to make it special. For both of them.

Gabrielle's lips on his neck snapped him back to reality. He sighed at the soft feeling of them and started to rub his hand up and down her back.

"Did the kids like their gifts?" he asked as he started to spin to music only he could hear. Their Christmas tree coming into his vision as he did.

"They adored them," Gabrielle said. "Although Fleur thought it was far too nice of a starter broom for Victoire. I showed them the settings you showed me so she no longer thinks Victorie will break her neck if she tries to fly."

"Good. Want to open yours now?" he asked, noticing there were still a few wrapped presents under the tree.

"We said our Christmas is tomorrow," Gabrielle said.

"So?" he whispered into her hair.

"Take me to bed and unwrap me instead. We can worry about the gifts in the morning," Gabrielle said.

"Deal," Harry said as he carried her into the bedroom.

The morning came far too soon. But coffee and Gabrielle's bright attitude spurred him awake. He made cinnamon rolls as she squealed over her gifts. He hadn't even done that much that year, given that he planned on doing something else soon.

He'd given her a pair of charmed pyjamas that were all the rage. Colour-changing and various levels of softness and heating or cooling effects. They'd been amazingly difficult to find at Gladrags.

But they'd been the throw-in. He'd taken Fleur on a trip to Italy to peer into some of the more prominent muggle shops. The entire Delacour family had a bit of a thing for designer clothing. Gabrielle used the same handbag for the time he'd known her and when he'd mentioned it to Fleur she'd dragged him immediately to one specific store.

She'd helped him pick out a brown bag with crossed Gs on it and a green-red-green stripe down the middle. He'd seen the same stripe on a pair of shoes she adored but he wasn't nearly as familiar with designers as he expected the Delacours would make him.

The final gift he'd given her had managed to be even more expensive than the bag. The short, black, heeled, dragon-leather boots had a charmed woollen liner and were designed to keep feet warm and dry while still being fashionable. A series of other charms Harry barely understood adorned them as well for maximum comfort when walking, jogging, standing or anything else. He saw her peering at them in a shop window once or twice while wandering through magical London and she practically jumped on him when she unwrapped them.

She spent the rest of the morning sizing them and playing with the charms on them before showering and dressing. She emerged in jeans and a sweater with her new bag and new boots and kissed him farewell as she went off to work.

He cleaned up the remains of the morning before joining Titus at the stadium for a brief morning workout. After that he returned home, showered, changed, made sure the apartment was utterly spotless, paced, called Kreacher to make sure the apartment was utterly spotless, paced some more, and mostly didn't act nervous as he waited for the Delacours to arrive.

They arrived exactly when they said they would, fresh from visiting the grandkids at Shell Cottage. They were dressed smartly, obviously ready for the concert. Harry greeted them with a smile and a wave as Apolline kissed each of his cheeks and Louis shook his hand. Once again, he found himself surprised by their warmth. They always seemed happy to see him. And he appreciated it.

He gave them the tour of Ballycastle. The muggle portion of the tour only took about twenty minutes. But the flourishing and incredibly hidden magical portion took longer. Almost everyone he walked by in the street recognised him. He stopped and chatted with most of the people who spoke with him.

He introduced the Delacours as he stopped to chat. Almost every person then said some kind words about their daughter, much to the surprise of the older couple. Although they clearly appreciated being told what a lovely person their daughter was. A few even shared anecdotes of meeting Harry and Gabrielle out on the town and often ended it with how they were amazed at how nice the couple was.

"It is amazing," Apolline said. "They were booing you on the wireless less than a month ago. We could hear them."

"What?" Harry asked.

"The announcer kept mentioning it, too," Louis said.

"Oh, that must have been the Holyhead match. They still don't like me much there," Harry said.

"The announcer said they thought you ruined their future," Louis said.

"Well, I mean, given that they haven't beaten us in a while now I may have," Harry said. "I used to get jeered a lot all over the place. Now it's only Holyhead. Although Kenmare might not be too happy with how I embarrassed Lynch in the last international match. They might let me hear it," Harry said.

"And that does not bother you?" Louis asked.

"No. It's just part of it. If an opposing team's fans hate me most likely I did something right. Holyhead is…well…Holyhead is an exception obviously. But it just motivates me to beat them," Harry said.

"A motivation that has worked," Louis said.

"And they just keep booing," Harry smirked. "One day they may learn to shut their mouths. But I doubt it."

"Would that help?" Apolline asked.

"No," Harry said as they continued the tour, finishing up a few streets from the stadium. Louis peered at it in the distance. Apolline smiled and shook her head.

"My husband has never had a behind the scenes tour of a professional stadium," Apolline said. "And he is too sheepish to ask you for one."

"We have plenty of time before we need to get to London. Let me show you around," Harry said and led them to the stadium. The security staff let him in without question and he took the through the media room and the bowels of the stadium. They peered briefly into the visitors' locker room before he brought them into the home team locker room. Titus and Barker were there.

Titus was perched in his cubby while Barker leaned against a table as they discussed strategy. He waved at both as they entered. Once he'd introduced the Delacours, Lewis Barker also shared with them how wonderful he thought their daughter was. While he didn't think either of the Delacours was a huge fan of Quidditch, their stunned expression that all of these famous people were aware of their daughter, and had nothing but positive things to say about her, told Harry enough. After a few minutes of conversation in the locker room he took them up to the pitch.

"It really is a different feeling being on it, isn't it?" Louis asked as he paced underneath the hoops.

"Much. I hate being in the stands," Harry said. "Did you play?"

"Only casually with friends. I was never good enough to make a team," Louis said.

"And you?" Harry asked.

"No," Apolline said. "I never saw the point of sport."

"I don't know if I should be offended or not," Harry responded.

"If anyone has earned the right to play a game for a living it is you, Harry Potter," Apolline said. "After how you spent your teenage years…"

"I never thought of it that way," he said. "But I did have something I wanted to ask you two. I was going to wait until we got to London and there was less of a chance of a random stranger interrupting me. But I guess this will do."

"What is it?" Louis asked. Harry took a deep breath before he said anything. His gaze shifted between the two of them. They weren't standing very close so he couldn't look at both of them. He wasn't quite sure who he should address. But Apolline seemed to sense something was making him nervous and moved next to her husband.

"Well…I love your daughter more than anything I've ever cared about. I'd quit Quidditch in an instant if she asked me to. Every time I see her smile my heart lights up. I…well…I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I…I don't really know how I'm supposed to do this. But well…I'm asking you for your blessing. For her hand in marriage," Harry said it all in one breath, finding it odd that he could play Quidditch in front of thousands without any trace of nerves, but asking a simple question to two adults had him squirming like a small child being interrogated.

"Oh Harry," Apolline gasped.

"Of course you have our blessing," Louis said. He smiled at Harry and he got the strangest feeling that her parents expected this conversation.

"We would love for you to join our family, Harry," Apolline said.

"I was worried you might think I was rushing into it," Harry said.

"Nonsense. You've been dating far longer than Bill and Fleur were. And neither of you take major decisions lightly. And, as apparently everyone in this town already knows, you are great together. I've seen you smile while she plays. And her smile while you do. You enjoy each other's successes perhaps more than your own," Apolline said.

"And you're a good man, Harry. Gabrielle is lucky to have you," Louis said.

"That's a weight off my chest," Harry said.

"Did you think we'd say no?" Apolline asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I guess it was a possibility."

"Someone needs to curse those Dursleys," Apolline said.

"People say that a lot," Harry shrugged. Just what they were blaming the Dursleys for he didn't know. He didn't see how nerves about one of the biggest decisions of his life could be blamed on the Dursleys.

"When are you going to ask her?" Louis asked.

"I don't know. Soon," Harry said. "I have a scene in my head and…Honestly I've always been at my best when improvisation was required. So, when the moment strikes me, I guess."

"I would scoff at anyone else that said that, but with you I believe it," Apolline said. "Do you have the ring yet?"

"Yes," Harry said. He took the box out of his pocket and handed it to Apolline. She opened it and her eyes widened. Louis whistled.

"She will love it," Apolline said, closing the box and handing it back to him. "You have great taste."

"Thank you," he said. "We should make our way to London though, if we're going to make it to the show in time. We can get straight to our London flat from the players floo."

"I get to take a Quidditch team's private floo?" Louis said, his eyes sparkling more than the diamond Harry tucked back into his pocket.

"I assure you it's just like a regular floo," Harry said as they returned to the locker room.

Post-Christmas London was far more crowded than Ballycastle. But they still made it to the concert hall with time to spare. Even with a few stops at some of the more festive sites worked in. Harry sat next to Apolline and peered through the program they'd handed him on the way to his seat. He read the blurb about the music that they would be playing that night and then paged through the list of musicians.

She was smiling in her photo. The blurb next to it just gave a brief rundown of how long she'd been with the orchestra and how long she'd played the flute. He smiled at her photo and waited for the performance to start. He heard Apolline and Louis talk briefly in French, gazing over at him a couple of times. Judging from their smiles and general amusement, he suspected they were basking in what the future would bring.

When the show started his eyes found her immediately. She'd moved up a few seats in the last year and he was rather proud of her. It had taken a few months for her to realise that he really did like listening to her practice. Some of his favourite nights involved him lounging on the couch and watching her while she played. He found it a great way to unwind.

The entire performance was beautiful. He watched her the whole time. Ignoring Apolline's comment that she'd at least finally worn a different dress to a performance. When the show ended, he led the Delacours to the lobby where they waited for a few moments until Apolline glanced at Louis.

"The show ran a little long, Louis. How about we head to the restaurant so we do not miss our reservation. Gabrielle and Harry can join us when they are ready," Apolline said.

"Are you sure dear?" Louis said, looking a little alarmed at the suggestion.

"Positive. We would hate to lose our table," Apolline said.

"Do you know where the restaurant is?" Harry asked. He recognised the tone in her voice enough. Both her daughters could adopt the same tone without much effort and it very rarely resulted in them not getting their way.

"No, but I am sure one of the fine London cab drivers will," Apolline said.

"Well if you insist dear," Louis said as his wife started to lead him from the lobby. Harry watched them go. Finding the entire situation to be a little bit strange as he waited for his girlfriend.

She emerged a few minutes later, wearing the black dress she'd had on while on stage with a black coat over it, still in her new boots and with her new bag on display. She hugged and kissed him as soon as she got to him, then giggled.

"The girls are all jealous of my new bag," she said.

"Good," Harry smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and looked around.

"Where are my parents? You didn't drive them back to France in under an afternoon, did you?" she asked.

"They went ahead to the restaurant. Your mother didn't want to lose our reservation," Harry said.

"Did the show run that long?" Gabrielle asked, taking Harry's arm and moving it so she could see his watch.

"A little bit, not much. I think they just wanted a few minutes away from me," Harry said. "You know how the French are when they're around the English for too long."

"Well the English are quite annoying," Gabrielle agreed.

"I know. Shall we catch up to them?" he asked.

"Yes," she said as they left the theatre. They moved into an alley nearby and Harry pulled her to him.

"Ready?" he asked. She smirked at him and he felt himself being shoved into a tube and then they were near the Thames. A couple of people looked in their direction but didn't seem to think anything else of their sudden appearance.

"Ready," she said.

"Cheeky," he said.

"Restaurant is this way, right?" she said, pulling him in the correct direction.

"It is," he said, sliding his hand into hers as they walked side by side toward the restaurant. He stared out at the decorated city as they walked near the river, enjoying the lights and festive nature of it. He found himself disappointed he'd missed so much of the holiday cheer in his home town. New York had been fun, sure, but London was home.

Gabrielle hummed one of the songs she'd just performed as they walked hand-in-hand through snowy London. Harry tried to add in the harmony as she hummed her part but that only caused her to burst out laughing.

"You are terrible," she said. "How can you not even hum a tune? Here, follow my lead." And she started again as they walked. It lasted about ten seconds before he screwed it up again. She chastised him once more and made him try again. And again.

Eventually he got the hang of it and she smiled as she continued through the song. He kept up for a bit, but when it was time to get to just him he forgot how the song went so he went with 'Mary had a Little Lamb' because, frankly, it wasn't that different from Vivaldi. This caused Gabrielle to start laughing as she slipped from him, shaking her head.

"You are hopeless," she laughed as she stepped over toward the river. She leaned against the small wall there, laughing and smiling at him as the snow clung to her hair. He lost himself fin her smile, the same smile that he wanted to bring out of her more than anything else.

He stared at her then and his world froze as he saw her. Her hair fanned out behind her, her coat pulled tight around her form. Her handbag slung over her shoulder. Her dragon-leather boots shining in the moonlight. Her eyes a dazzling blue as a streetlight illuminated her and the falling snow around her.

He saw the river behind her, flowing in the darkness, the noise of it drowning out any sound around them except for her laugh or her voice. The city of London lit up behind her, behind him, around both of them. The life of it around them despite the stillness surrounding them.

He took another step toward her as his hand slipped into his pocket. He had the fleeting thought that this might have been Apolline's plan. Had she known what being alone with Gabrielle meant? What he would have wanted to do the most that holiday season?

Gabrielle's expression changed as he approached. Her face shifted from joyous to inquisitive as she peered at him. And then to shock as he slid down to one knee, not giving a care in the world for the damp ground. He heard her gasp as her hands rose to her cover her mouth. Harry held the box open before her and he swallowed hard before the words came to him.

"Gabrielle Margot Delacour. I love you with every fibre of my being. I can't imagine spending another day without you. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days by your side, sharing your life. Will you, Ellie, marry me?" He stared up at her. The words didn't feel like they were enough. Her eyes flashed between him and the ring and him, her mouth still covered by her hands.

He waited for more of a reaction. With each passing millisecond he thought more and more like she was rejecting him. But the time, he knew, was crawling past. Despite the fact that he thought he could have caught ten snitches in the time before she reacted.

But then she did.

Slowly at first. She started to bounce on the balls of her feet, rocking up and down faster and faster and faster. Her hands left her face and she started to fan herself despite the cool breeze. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red from what Harry didn't think was the cold. He noticed the tears forming in her eyes as she fanned herself.

"Yes," she whispered. And then continued, getting louder with each word. "Yes yes yes yes yes! Yes!" She yelled the last word as if she wanted all of London to hear. A few others walking down the street peered over at them. Some laughter and a cheer broke through his senses as the few bystanders realised what a yes meant with Harry on a knee before her.

Gabrielle reached for him and pulled him up to his feet so she could kiss him. She kissed him like it was the last chance she'd ever have. Like she never wanted to stop kissing him. But eventually she did. They were both panting when their lips finally parted. She spun herself around in his arms and looked down at the ring he was still holding. She looked up at him, holding her left hand in the air, her bright smile plastered across her face.

His hands trembled as he took it from the box. Finding them shakier than he would have expected. But as soon as the ring was in his hand they calmed. He held it up to her to let her examine the twisted halo looping around a round diamond. The ring sparkled in the dark of the London night. He slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand with a smile.

"Do you like it?" he asked, hoping his nerves didn't show too much in his tone.

"I love it," she whispered back, breathlessly as she held her hand up before them, examining every angle of it. She spun back around and he took his hand in hers, his fingers tracing over the ring and adoring what it meant in his hand. She kissed him again. And again.

"Should we join your parents?" he asked against her lips.

"Do we have to?" she whispered.

"Yes," he responded.

"Did you plan this?" she asked.

"Is it more romantic if I did or didn't?" he asked.

"I am not sure yet," Gabrielle said.

"I asked them for their blessing today," Harry said. "I bought the ring about a month ago. I hadn't planned on proposing tonight. I wasn't sure how or when I wanted to do it. But then I saw you there, illuminated by London and smiling at me like I was the best person on the planet and I thought the moment was perfect."

"It was," she said.

"I'm glad you thought so," he responded. His hand held hers as they walked toward the restaurant.

"I have like a hundred people I need to floo and call," Gabrielle said.

"Me too," Harry responded. "But first we need to tell your parents. And enjoy a delicious dinner where you can do something else that I'm sure you want to do."

"Drag you into the bathroom for alone time?" she asked. Harry laughed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure how well that would go over but with enough charms," Harry let his voice trail off for a moment before continuing. "I was referring to discussing every aspect of your wedding with your mother."

"Oh my God," Gabrielle gasped, stopping in her tracks.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"I have to plan a wedding!" she started breathing harder, fanning herself with one hand again as his hand clenched hers.

"We have to plan a wedding," Harry corrected. She paused and immediately calmed down. After a moment she beamed at him.

"Yes, we do. But first, dinner," she said.

"And then we can go home and floo the entire planet. I think I should tell Rita and Luna, too. If you don't mind that is. I'd love for the Quibbler to scoop the Prophet on this," Harry said as the thought just occurred to him.

"After all they write about you and Ginny I think that would amuse me as well," Gabrielle smiled and kissed him once more. "We will have to make sure she gets a good shot of the ring."

"I love you," he smiled against her lips. She took his hand once more and they continued to the restaurant, arriving at it with bright smiles plastered on their faces. It was only a brief walk to where Louis and Apolline were waiting for them. Both of their eyes shot toward Gabrielle's hand and her mother laughed.

"I knew it," she teased Louis as she shot out of her chair to hug her daughter and the man that would soon be her son. Louis stood and shook his hand with a smile and tears in his eyes. There was smiling and giggling and wine as nearly every eye in the restaurant turned to them for their celebration. Which only grew more jovial when Harry bought champagne for everyone in the small dining room.

He spent the rest of the meal at the table with his fiancé and her family. The distinction bothered him for a moment. He realised why. What was his would soon be hers, and what was hers would soon be his. The thought filled him with joy. He beamed at the man and woman who he would soon be able to call his parents. And then even more at the woman who would be his wife.


	6. Yule

Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Yule

December 25, 2006

"Time to get up, Chéri," Harry said, sitting up in the beach chair and peering out over the ocean as the sun beat down on him.

"No?" his wife said from the chair next to him.

"Yes," Harry said. "Or we'll miss our portkey."

"But it is warm here," Gabrielle Potter replied.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad in Bordeaux," Harry said.

"But it is wonderful here," Gabrielle said.

"It is," Harry agreed. "We'll come back."

"Promise?" she asked, sitting up and looking over at him.

"Well, coming back means I get to stare at you in a bikini all day. So yes, I promise," Harry said.

"I do look very good in this black one," Gabrielle said.

"Very," Harry agreed, taking the opportunity to leer at her and regretting that they had to be responsible adults so he couldn't take it off her. Of course, he knew she'd let him right now. But then they'd get an earful as to why they were late. And that was a conversation that was best avoided.

"I assume you left us enough time to shower and look presentable before we go to my parents' house?" Gabrielle asked.

"I have to look presentable?" Harry asked, faking alarm.

"Yes," Gabrielle said.

"How presentable?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he attempted to glare at her.

"Nothing with a bat on it," she said.

"But that's like eighty percent of my wardrobe!" Harry complained.

"Are we going to have to stop in Paris and get you suitable clothing?" Gabrielle teased. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at him. It was annoyingly effective even in the midst of a fake argument.

"Shopping in Paris with you? We'd never make it to your parents' party and I still wouldn't wind up with any clothing," Harry teased.

"We could always invite the entire family and see if Fleur and I could bankrupt you," Gabrielle teased, her smile widening on her face sending a shiver down his spine as he pictured the French girls attempting just that.

"Or we could be responsible adults and go back into the villa, clean up, and get ready to impress the rest of your family," Harry said.

"But they already like you the most," Gabrielle said.

"Well duh, my only competition is Bill and he actively raids historic sites and puts himself in imminent mortal peril while doing so," Harry said.

"And you let Titus Button hit metal balls at your head," Gabrielle countered.

"If Titus is hitting them at me they're charmed to not deal damage. And if anyone on the opposing team gets too close to me, Titus or Trent show their appreciation with a well-placed barrage," Harry argued.

"For some reason I do not think that helps your cause," Gabrielle said. She stood and stretched her arms over her head. It wasn't an unappealing sight.

"We'll have to disagree on that one," Harry said. He reached out and caressed her leg gently.

"You said we did not have time for that," she responded with a glance down to his hand.

"We don't," he said as he pulled himself to his feet. He kissed her once and led her into the beach-side cabana they'd spent the last ten days in.

"That is a shame," she sighed as the artificially cooled air hit them when they entered the building.

"Go shower," he laughed, knowing she'd take longer than he would.

"Fine," she sighed. She kissed him as she turned to move toward the bathroom. "But I'm going to hex you if I come out and you're asleep."

"I'll make sure I stay awake then," Harry said. He followed her into the bedroom but when she turned to the bathroom he moved to the bed. He threw himself on it, enjoying how her scent surrounded him as he reflected on the first two weeks of married life.

They held the wedding at a small church in Bordeaux. The choice of venue surprised him, given that none of the Delacours showed any interest in religion. But he soon learned it was the same church where Louis and Apolline were wed, as well as five previous generations of the Delacour family. Even Bill and Fleur held a small ceremony there shortly after their wedding in England.

Gabrielle told him that was where she wanted the ceremony the day after he proposed. She'd taken him to see it the next time they visited her parents. It was a small, baroque building that Harry assumed could seat about seventy-five to a hundred.

In his head he was expecting numbers more than that, but Gabrielle had simply raised her thin eyebrows and asked him how many people he wanted to invite. The answer had been fewer than he'd expected. Although a couple of surprising names did make the list.

Then came the date. They'd decided on one nearly a year from his proposal. She wanted a wedding around Christmas. She said she'd always dreamed of her wedding as a festive affair. Harry had no real qualms about that and decided if that was what she wanted, that was what she should get.

The local priest seemed thrilled to be putting together another Delacour wedding and made sure the specific date they wanted would be free. He was an older man, one about to give up his church for a life of quiet retirement, and he seemed thrilled at the concept of one more wedding before he did.

They planned the reception after as well. They booked a large banquet hall in Bordeaux and went about getting everything set up. It took a lot more work than Harry expected, but Apolline and Gabrielle took care of almost all of it. He provided his opinion on things, Apolline often pressed him to do so saying it was his wedding as well. But most of his decisions mirrored Gabrielle's and, despite the work involved, it all seemed easy.

The hardest part ended up being deciding who would get invited to the wedding itself and who would only be invited to the reception. Harry found himself staring down at a blank piece of paper as he wondered if he was slighting people by not inviting everyone who knew Harry Potter.

Titus and Sophie were obvious, they were the first two names on his list. If Harry was being honest he was rather surprised that he was beating the two of them to the altar. But the topic of marriage never really came up with Titus. But he also hadn't ever tried dating someone who lived on another continent.

Ron and Hermione joined them a moment later. Both had been rather surprised both when he told them he was dating Gabrielle and when he told them he was marrying Gabrielle. But he'd grown apart from them in the last few years. It was hard not to. Ron was working hard at the joke shop and Hermione was working her way up the ministry.

Of course, they'd started meeting more for dinner and the like now that he was with Gabrielle as quite a few things were easier as a double date. Not that Ron and Hermione ever made him feel uncomfortable about their relationship. Gabrielle always seemed a bit more nervous at these outings than she did whenever anyone from Quidditch was around, but she was the outlier in the group so Harry figured that was to be expected.

But after those two couples he ran out of ideas. He knew he had to invite the Weasleys. They'd done more for him as a family than anyone else he could name. But that thought didn't sit well with him. He wondered if it would be odd for the family if only Bill and Ron were invited to his wedding. He figured the twins would rather attend the reception than the wedding itself, but they at least warranted an invitation.

And Arthur was the closest thing to a surrogate father he had. He still talked with the Weasley patriarch a few times a month. And had gifted him tickets to World Cup matches and Bats matches when requested. Harry liked Arthur and his earnest way.

But Ginny and Molly? He frowned inwardly at the thought. Molly had done a lot in his life. She'd supported him through some of the hardest challenges he'd faced. And they'd been a constant boon during the war. He couldn't leave them off. So, he added their names to the list, knowing that he'd feel better if he wasn't nagged by a petty grudge.

After that a few of his Hogwarts friends made it onto the list. Neville Longbottom was a guarantee. Harry's involvement in his budding brewery put them in contact more and more often. And Neville, he was sure, would bring Hannah Abbott with him.

Ernie MacMillan was also another easy add. The former Hufflepuff now worked for Nimbus designing brooms and he and Harry had hit it off while testing one of the league models a few years earlier. Ernie and his wife, Tamsin, invited him and Gabrielle out almost as often as Ron and Hermione.

Hagrid, Dean Thomas, and Luna Lovegood joined them as he flushed out his list.

But after that it turned into, more or less, a who's who of British and International Quidditch. The entire Bats contingent all wound up on his list. As did quite a few people he knew through international play and the English team. Some of them wouldn't be able to make it due to scheduling conflicts, but most would come.

He'd frowned when he's showed his completed listed to Gabrielle, saying that it felt like there was far too much Quidditch on it. Gabrielle seemed confused for a moment and then shrugged and showed him her list. Which, aside from a handful of old Beauxbatons friends, including her Maid of Honour and best friend Josephine, consisted primarily of people she knew through the orchestra.

Quidditch, she'd said, was his family. And she knew that the people on his list were all happy for him and would be honoured to attend his special day. Her words reassured him. She did glance at his list and then, in a small voice, state that he thought he should have added a few more.

He'd balked at the Dursley's as she scribbled their names onto the paper. Her argument was simple. They were family. He at least exchanged Christmas Cards with Dudley. It was the proper thing to do. They may not come, but that was on them. He was better than they were. And the invite helped to prove that.

And besides, she'd argued, they'd get to meet her. And she would be all dolled up in a gorgeous white dress looking as angelic as humanly possible while hanging off his arm and staring at him like he was the best person in the world. All while being surrounded by people who revered him at a lavish venue and party that was shaping up to cost a small fortune. They'd either be happy for him, or insanely jealous at the realisation of what could have been had they been better people. And all he'd have to do was smile and thank them for coming. And hell, she'd do that part for him if he wanted.

He'd hesitated but left the names on their tentative list. And eventually, sent their invites with the batch that went in the muggle post to most of Gabrielle's orchestra friends. His aunt and uncle never responded. But Dudley RSVP'd with a plus one just a couple of days later, one of the first to return the invitations. A short congratulatory note came with it, written in a distinctly feminine hand.

After that it all came together quickly. A year flying by in the blink of an eye. And, at almost the exact time he grew accustomed to introducing Gabrielle as his fiancée rather than girlfriend, he found her title about to change once more.

The chosen date was unseasonably warm and sunny. He heard a comment or two from the gathered crowds as they filed into the church that they couldn't have asked for any better weather.

He found himself shifting his weight back and forth as he stood next to a priest and Titus Button. Both he and Titus wore expensive suits from a magical designer out of Italy. He'd come to Ballycastle to fit them and it had taken the better part of six hours after a practice one day. They were magical garments but designed not to look out of place to all of the muggles in attendance.

"It's good to know you are capable of being nervous," Titus said, peering over at Harry. "After all those years of Quidditch you never looked fussed. Now I'm worried I should have brought a bucket."

"Very funny," Harry said as he watched the guests filter into the church, a free hand lazily twirling a snitch cufflink. Gabrielle kept most of the winter decorations, garlands lining the aisle.

He watched Dudley show up. His cousin took a seat in a half-filled pew on the Groom's side of the church. He'd looked good, Harry thought. He'd lost a lot of weight and looked far healthier than Harry remembered him. He did look surprisingly uncomfortable. But Harry figured that could be attributed to the fact that Luna Lovegood sat next to him and appeared to be talking to him. The mousy brunette with him peered over at Luna, her expression distinctly confused as Luna seemed to stop paying attention mid-sentence.

"Weasley looks like he wants to hex me," Titus said as his eyes drifted over the guests entering the church until he found Ron and Hermione sitting near the front of the church.

"He wasn't very happy when I picked you over him," Harry admitted. "Less so when Gabrielle and I decided to only have one each. I think he thought that at some point he and Hermione would be up here with Ginny and me," Harry said.

"Still?" Titus laughed.

"No. I think he knew that would never happen. But saying it aloud made it real," Harry said.

"Also, when did Hermione get hot?" Titus asked.

"Do I need to point out that Sophie Sinclair is sitting in the literal row behind her?" Harry asked.

"Why do you think I noticed Hermione?" Titus responded. "Speaking of, I forgot to tell Gabrielle to make sure the bouquet doesn't wind up anywhere near Sophie. I wonder if there's still time to send her a message."

"Oh?" Harry raised his brows and looked at Titus. "I thought you two were just 'enjoying life' and 'not interested in settling down,'" Harry said. His eyes slid to the row behind Sophie. Arthur and Molly Weasley sat with their twin sons Fred and George. Arthur and the twins were talking excitedly about something, no doubt a product for the joke shop. Molly had her arms crossed over her chest and was looking anywhere but at Harry.

"We are. And then you and Elle started talking about your wedding and she got all starry eyed and looked at me like she expected me to propose right then and there." Titus said.

"And you didn't," Harry said.

"I did not," Titus said.

"What's stopping you?" Harry asked.

"She lives in Montreal and I live in Ballycastle? Time difference and international portkeys are a pain to deal with daily," Titus said.

"You spend the entire off-season living with her," Harry countered. "And there's a Quidditch league in England as we're all aware."

"There's one in Canada too, you know," Titus said.

"But you know you don't want to play without me and that I won't go to Canada," Harry said.

"We're both worried playing against each other would sour our relationship," Titus frowned.

"So, you're both scared," Harry said.

"Hey now," Titus growled. Harry shook his head and laughed.

"If you love her," he shrugged his shoulders, "you'd make it work. I get having qualms. But things you make out to be a big deal wouldn't end up being one. And if you're thick like me just ask her about it directly."

But before Titus could respond the music started and Harry, like the rest of those gathered turned his attention to the entrance of the church. Victoire entered first, in a pale gold dress with a basket of flowers.

Harry's attention turned to those following her though, until his eyes landed on Gabrielle and Louis. He had tears visible on his face. Hers was obscured behind the thin white veil. She wore a sleeveless white dress with gold filigree around the bodice and hem in a design that reminded him of snowflakes. His world stopped as he saw her, the only thing in it in that moment was her as she moved closer and closer to him.

And then she was there, her blue eyes shining with happiness as she stood next to him. She handed the bouquet of flowers to Josephine and he held both of her hands as the officiant started. Harry barely followed the man as he welcomed the attendees and spoke a few words about love.

He kept his eyes locked on Gabrielle, even when it was his turn to speak, promising to love her and cherish her for the rest of his eternity and to do everything in his power to make sure she was happy as well.

And then he listened as she promised the same. His heart aching in his chest as the tears welled in the corners of his eyes. He wondered how he was so lucky, how he'd gotten her to love him, and what he'd done to even deserve it.

Then, finally, the officiant asked them both a simple question, and they each said the two words that, at least according the movie they'd watched on their first night together, made everything official as he slid another ring onto her left hand.

After he lifted her veil and stared into her eyes as he was told just what he was allowed to do. He kissed her as lovingly as he could, his hands squeezing hers, before he turned both of them to face the crowd, their first action as man and wife.

Photos and other traditions followed in a blur. Including a shot of the two of them that he was sure would grace the cover of far too many publications in the coming days. And then a sea of people joined him as they left the church and moved on to the reception.

It wasn't until hours later, after speeches, bouquets tossed into the air, quite a few glasses of champagne, a catered meal and a piece of cake that wound up far more on his face than in his mouth, that he finally had her in his arms.

They moved slowly in a small circle on the dance floor. His eyes locked onto hers as they started the dancing. He took in every inch of her, wanting to remember exactly how she looked, every detail of the intricate bun she'd done her hair into, every detail on the gold and pearl tiara intwined through her locks, every detail of her dress, her face, her everything, down to the polish on her nails.

Others joined them, dancing in circles around them, and the moment felt entirely perfect for him.

Even Dudley and his girlfriend seemed to be having a good time. Dudley cornered them after a dance, his face flushed with alcohol and his expression nervous. Harry's jaw set as he introduced Dudley to Gabrielle and Dudley introduced them to Helen.

But the women saved them. Helen gushed to Gabrielle about how beautiful everything was, and how wonderful everything was, and how great it was for them to have an excuse to spend a few days in France together.

And Gabrielle was every bit the angel she said she would be. She teased Helen about the bouquet she'd caught and talked to Dudley with such charm that he'd just stared at her, like he couldn't believe she was even speaking to him.

After Helen told him they'd bothered the bride and groom for too long and they should return to the dance floor, Dudley told her he'd join her in a second. He turned to Harry and thanked him for inviting them and then struggled with more words. Harry clasped him on the shoulder and nodded and they both knew that would be enough. They would likely never be friends. But they just might be family.

Dudley had taken one last glance at Gabrielle and then looked back and just whispered 'wow' at Harry, slapping him on his back and leaving to re-join his girlfriend.

"You are amazing," Harry said, turning back to her.

"I know. You can reward me later," she said. And then others joined them, gushing about the wedding and telling them how happy they were for them, congratulating them. And then, finally, Louis Delacour slid next to them as Apolline gathered the attention of the guests.

He led them over to the floo and let them slip away from the ending of the party. They stepped into the lobby of a magical hotel in Paris where they would spend the first few days of their honeymoon before shipping off to the Maldives.

He carried her up to the room, she giggled the whole way, kissing him as they went, until finally they were alone in a candlelit suite. It didn't matter that he'd had her before, that he'd loved her before that day, that he'd known for a while he wanted nothing more than to be with her, making love to Gabrielle Potter for the first time was easily a highlight of his life.

A pillow hitting him in the face snapped him out of his reflective nature.

"I'm awake," he said as he saw Gabrielle start to dress.

"I know. Or I would have hexed you," she said as he stood. He moved behind her, sliding her hair away from her neck and leaned down to kiss her soft skin as his arms slid around her. She tilted her head to the side and sighed as he did. He peered in the mirror to see her biting her lip before she shifted around in his arms and kissed him.

"I love you," he whispered, finding it hard to not say it every time he was around her.

"Go shower," she said with a coquettish smirk, pushing him toward the bathroom. "Otherwise we will be late for the party and that would upset my husband."

"We wouldn't want that," Harry said as he stepped into the shower.

When he emerged she was already dressed. She'd decided on jeans and a Christmas jumper and had pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was sitting at the vanity touching up her makeup.

He changed into a similarly casual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt before packing up his bag and sending it to the front desk via magic. He stepped out of their bungalow and looked over at the beach and the water for one last time.

She joined him a few minutes later, her purse slung over her shoulder as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It is really beautiful here," Gabrielle said as the both peered out over the water.

"Yes it is," he said.

"I can't wait to come back," she said.

"Me too," he agreed, hugging her close to him.

"Shall we check out and head home?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. They walked together, hand in hand, past the other bungalows and into the lobby of the hotel proper. Harry spent a few minutes checking out while Gabrielle shifted off to the coffee shop. She returned with two cappuccinos about the same time he finished checking out of the hotel.

They took the hotel's floo to the Portkey terminal and waited a few minutes for their return Portkey to France. Judging from the gazes that shifted their way, a few people recognised them. But only one came up to him to ask for an autograph during the short wait for the portkey.

And then, moments later, he found himself at the Portkey terminal in Bordeaux. This time, though, there wasn't a Weasley waiting for him. Of course, this time he knew where he was going, and had an even better guide in the event that he somehow got lost.

Minutes later they were in the same inn he'd arrived at on his first trip to the Delacour home. And then they walked up the same path he'd walked all those years ago. They could have apparated, but as they held hands it seemed that walking was the better option.

"Did we send the gifts ahead?" Gabrielle asked as they approached the door.

"No. Fleur told me she'd stop at our flat and get them before they came over," Harry said. "I'd wrapped them while you were at your final performance before the wedding."

"I should have helped with that," she frowned.

"Yes, they'd have looked a lot better had you helped," Harry teased.

"If my mother comments about the lack of skilled wrapping I am blaming you," Gabrielle said.

"I would expect nothing less," Harry said as they walked to the side entrance of the home. Gabrielle opened the door without fanfare and stepped into the kitchen, where her mother was arranging a plate of fruit.

"We are here," Gabrielle said as she entered. Her mother looked up at her and beamed.

"Elle! Harry!" she squealed and rushed to them, hugging them each and kissing Harry on both cheeks.

"Hello Apolline," Harry smiled.

"You two are so tanned!" she gushed. "You will have to tell me all about the Maldives!"

"Oh, it was gorgeous maman!" Gabrielle responded. "The beaches especially. We had our own private bungalow and it was a magical time."

"I am surprised you spent enough time outside to get a tan," Fleur teased as she entered the room. She two hugged both Gabrielle and Harry.

"We had to stop to eat you know," Gabrielle teased while flushing crimson.

"Stop what?" Victoire asked as she followed Bill into the kitchen.

"Nothing Vic," Harry said, kneeling by the little girl. "You were beautiful at the wedding. I never thanked you for your help."

"Oh," Victoire hesitated but then smiled. "It was fun, Uncle Harry, even if there was a lot of talking and standing around."

"I thought it was fun too," Harry said. "Enjoying your Christmas?"

"Mommy and daddy got me my own Quaffle!" Victoire said. "I'm going to be a chaser!"

"Not a seeker?" Gabrielle asked, kneeling next to him and ruffling Victoire's hair.

"Nuh-uh. I want to be the best. And Uncle Harry is already the best seeker," Victoire said.

"I might be retired by the time you go professional," Harry teased.

"I want to score goals," Victoire countered.

"With that determination I am sure you will," Gabrielle teased.

"Can we open presents now?" Victoire asked. "Grandmama said we had to wait until you got here. And you are here now."

"I don't know," Gabrielle said.

"Not yet," Apolline said. "Let Harry and Elle get settled and get some breakfast and coffee into them and then we can gather around the tree and you can open your gifts."

"But that could take hours," Victoire pouted.

"It will not be nearly that long," Fleur said. "Now go play with Louis and Grandpapa."

"Okay," Victoire frowned before looking at Harry. "Want to see my Quaffle?"

"Vic," Fleur scolded.

"Sure," Harry responded, getting a slight glare from the girl's mother. He followed her into the living room where Louis and little Louis were playing with a magically enchanted train. He sat near Victoire as she tossed the Quaffle at him. He caught it easily and tossed it lazily back to her. She grabbed it with both hands and giggled.

They continued tossing it back and forth until Gabrielle entered with a silver tray bearing a pot of coffee and a few mugs. She placed it on the coffee table and started filling the mugs as her mother entered with a tray of breakfast snacks. Gabrielle handed him a croissant and a mug of coffee.

"Thanks love," he said as she settled onto the ground next to him with her own mug. Victoire giggled and threw the Quaffle at her. Gabrielle managed to catch it and not spill her coffee.

"Should we be doing that inside?" Apolline scolded.

"No," Victoire frowned, pouting and looking away.

"It's my fault," Harry said. "I started it,"

"Well, maybe continue it outside after presents," Apolline said.

"Presents?" Victoire perked up immediately and ran toward the tree. Gabrielle and Harry moved to a couch. Victoire pulled Louis over to the mound of gifts as started rummaging through them.

"Don't just look for your own love," Bill said. "Distribute them."

"I can do that," Harry said. He stood and moved over toward the tree, passing out the gifts. The adults each had two or three, but the two kids had a small mountain each and soon started in with a wild abandon, Victoire helping Louis whenever appropriate as the living room turned into something that more closely resembled a war zone.

"Kids really do love Christmas," Harry laughed as he sat back down next to Gabrielle and examined the carnage.

"They do," Bill said, eyeing both of his children with a bright smile on his face.

"And they change your perspective on the holiday," Apolline said. "Once you have your own."

"I am sensing an expectation in there," Gabrielle said, eyeing her mother as Harry slid an arm around her on the couch.

"She will wait at least a year before asking why you are not pregnant," Fleur teased. "At least we had the excuse of the war!"

"Nonsense. I was not that bad!" Apolline said, blushing as she spoke.

"You were," Fleur accused with a smile.

"It came up quite a lot," Louis Delacour agreed.

"Well Gabrielle will not have to worry about that," Apolline said. "Fleur already gave me grandchildren. Gabrielle can do so whenever she pleases."

"A few years yet, I think," Gabrielle said quietly, blushing and looking up at Harry.

"I think that sounds perfect," Harry said.

"Me too," Gabrielle agreed, burying her blushing face in his chest to avoid being teased about it while the attention of the group turned to Victoire squealing about a new gift she'd opened.

Harry kissed Gabrielle's hair as he watched the girl wave the animated plush toy around by its ear. He smiled. They'd teased Victoire about getting her a dog for the last few months. Fleur had been against it completely. So, they'd compromised on a magical doll that the girl was now hugging to her chest. She rushed over to thank both Harry and Gabrielle and they helped her come up with a name for it.

The party continued on with Gabrielle resting in his arms. He found himself reflecting on the first time he'd been in this house. He remembered feeling like an outsider, the one not at home among the Delacour and Weasley family members gathered together for a holiday.

Now, he had a hard time rationalising why he'd felt that way. They'd never treated him like an outsider. He knew that. And despite what happened to him after they'd believed him, even if Apolline had been somewhat icy. They'd trusted him. They loved him.

He'd wondered how Gabrielle could have been so cordial, almost happy to see Dudley Dursley. And how in a moment when he couldn't even open his mouth to utter anything kind, she'd managed to make everything just fine. But now, as he looked around his family, he knew.

It was because they were family. He might not have grown up with enough of one to impress that into his head. But Gabrielle had. And she knew that despite it all, family deserved something extra. She would, without even realising it, be the better person, and link the remaining family he had with him. And her doing so made him a better person. He made a mental note to write to Dudley after it was over. He may never like his cousin, but he knew that family should at least have the opportunity to be family.

But now he had more of a family. He was a Delacour, even if she'd taken his surname. Apolline and Louis had told him months earlier they already thought of him as a son. And as Gabrielle shifted away from him on the couch to hug Fleur and thank her for their gift he knew he'd be growing even closer with the woman who was now his sister.

And, once the carnage ended and he offered to help clean up, they didn't chastise him for being a guest. He was one of them. He felt oddly complete as he helped vanish the remnants of the wrapping paper and organise the assorted toys. He was home.

He levitated the tray of coffee and mugs from the table as he finished cleaning up and moved to the kitchen. Gabrielle, entering to grab the same tray, instead ducked around him as he placed it down on the kitchen counter.

He turned back to the living room only to find her standing in the doorway, smiling at him and peering up at the door frame.

"Mistletoe," she whispered at the sprigs hanging from it. Harry took her into his arms and kissed her, holding her to him as her arms slid around his neck. When their lips parted he shifted them to her forehead, placing one soft kiss there before gazing lovingly into her eyes.

She looked back at him with the same expression he knew was on his face. Her eyes were shining, her lips curled into a smile she couldn't even attempt to contain. She was looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. And the look made him think that maybe, just maybe, he was. Her look made him feel complete and he knew that as long as there were moments where she looked at him like that, they would be able to overcome anything that could come their way. He felt his lips curling into a smile as a rush of joy ran through him. He stared down into her eyes and said the only words that came to him on that early afternoon.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered. Her smile widened as she lifted herself closer to him.

"Merry Christmas," she responded as she kissed him once more for good measure.


End file.
